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diff --git a/old/10560-8.txt b/old/10560-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6560338 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10560-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16817 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last of the Foresters, by John Esten Cooke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last of the Foresters + +Author: John Esten Cooke + +Release Date: January 2, 2004 [EBook #10560] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Dave Maddock, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS: + +OR, + +HUMORS ON THE BORDER; + +A STORY OF THE + +Old Virginia Frontier. + +BY + +JOHN ESTEN COOKE + +AUTHOR OF "THE VIRGINIA COMEDIANS," "LEATHER STALKING AND SILK," +"ELLIE," "THE YOUTH OF JEFFERSON," INC. + + +1856 + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + I.--At Apple Orchard + II.--Verty and his Companions + III.--Introduces a Legal Porcupine + IV.--How Verty thought, and played, and dreamed + V.--Winchester + VI.--In which Mr. Roundjacket flourishes his ruler + VII.--In which Mr. Roundjacket reads his great Poem + VIII.--How Verty shot a White Pigeon + IX.--Hawking without a Hawk + X.--Verty makes the acquaintance of Mr. Jinks + XI.--How Verty discovered in himself a great fondness for Apples + XII.--How Strephon talked with Chloe in an Arbor + XIII.--Verty expresses a desire to imitate Mr. Jinks + XIV.--The Thirteenth of October + XV.--The Pedlar and the Necklace + XVI.--Mr. Roundjacket makes himself agreeable + XVII.--Mr. Jinks at Home + XVIII.--How Miss Lavinia developed her Theories on Matrimony + XIX.--Only a few tears + XX.--How Miss Fanny slammed the door in Verty's face + XXI.--In which Redbud suppresses her feelings, and behaves + with decorum + XXII.--How Miss Sallianna fell in love with Verty + XXIII.--The Result + XXIV.--Of the effect of Verty's violin-playing upon Mr. Rushton + XXV.--A Young Gentleman just from William and Mary College + XXVI.--The Necklace + XXVII.--Philosophical + XXVIII.--Consequences of Miss Sallianna's passion for Verty + XXIX.--Interchange of Compliments + XXX.--What occurred at Bousch's Tavern + XXXI.--Mr. Jinks on Horseback going to take Revenge + XXXII.--An old Bible + XXXIII.--Fanny's views upon Heraldry + XXXIV.--How Miss Sallianna alluded to vipers, and fell into hysterics + XXXV.--How Miss Fanny made merry with the passion of Mr. Verty + XXXVI.--Ralph makes love to Miss Sallianna + XXXVII.--Verty states his private opinion of Miss Sallianna + XXXVIII.--How Longears showed his gallantry in Fanny's service. + XXXIX.--Up the Hill, and under the Chestnuts + XL.--Under the Greenwood Tree + XLI.--Use of Coats in a Storm + XLII.--How Mr. Jinks requested Ralph to hold him + XLIII.--Verty's heart goes away in a chariot + XLIV.--In which the History returns to Apple Orchard + XLV.--Hours in the October Woods + XLVI.--The Happy Autumn Fields + XLVII.--Days that are no more + XLVIII.--The Harvest Moon + XLIX.--Back to Winchester, where Editorial Iniquity is discoursed of + L.--How Verty discovered a Portrait, and what ensued + LI.--A Child and a Logician + LII.--How Mr. Jinks determined to spare Verty + LIII.--Projects of Revenge, involving Historical details + LIV.--Exploits of Fodder + LV.--Woman-traps laid by Mr. Jinks + LVI.--Takes Verty to Mr. Roundjacket's + LVII.--Contains an Extraordinary Disclosure + LVIII.--How Mr. Rushton proved that all men were selfish, himself + included + LIX.--The Portrait smiles + LX.--The Lodge in the Hills + LXI.--Mrs. O'Calligan's Wooers + LXII.--Verty Muses + LXIII.--How Verty and Miss Lavinia ran a-tilt at each other, and + who was overthrown + LXIV.--The Rose of Glengary + LXV.--Providence + LXVI.--The Hour and the Necklace + LXVII.--How St. Patrick encountered St. Michael, and what + ensued + LXVIII.--The End of the Chain + LXIX.--Conclusion + + + + +PREFACE + + +Perhaps this story scarcely needs a Preface, but the child of the +writer's invention comes to possess a place in his affections, and he +is reluctant to send it forth into the wide world, without something +in the nature of a letter of introduction, asking for it a kindly and +charitable reception. It would be unjust to apply to this volume the +tests which are brought to bear upon an elaborate romance. In his +narrative of the adventures of Verty and Redbud, the writer has not +endeavored to mount into the regions of tragedy, or chronicle the +details of bloodshed on the part of heroes--but rather, to find in a +picturesque land and period such traits of life and manners as are +calculated to afford innocent entertainment. Written under the +beautiful autumn skies of our beloved Virginia, the author would +ask for the work only a mind in unison with the mood of the +narrative--asking the reader to laugh, if he can, and, above all, to +carry with him, if possible, the beautiful autumn sunshine, and the +glories of the mountains. + +Of the fine old border town, in which many of the scenes of the story +are laid, much might be said, if it were here necessary, that Thomas +Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, and formerly half-owner of Virginia, +sleeps there--that Morgan, the Ney of the Revolution, after all his +battles, lies there, too, as though to show how nobles and commoners, +lords and frontiersmen, monarchists and republicans, are equal +in death--and that the last stones of old Fort Loudoun, built by +Lieutenant, afterwards General, Washington, crumble into dust there, +disappearing like a thousand other memorials of that noble period, and +the giants who illustrated it:--this, and much more, might be said of +Winchester, the old heart of the border, which felt every blow, and +poured out her blood freely in behalf of the frontier. But of the land +in which this old sentinel stands it is impossible to speak in terms +of adequate justice. No words can describe the loveliness of its fair +fields, and vainly has the present writer tried to catch the spirit of +those splendid pictures, which the valley unrolls in autumn days. The +morning splendors and magnificent sunsets--the noble river and blue +battlements, forever escape him. It is in the midst of these scenes +that he has endeavored to place a young hunter--a child of the +woods--and to show how his wild nature was impressed by the new life +and advancing civilization around him. The process of his mental +development is the chief aim of the book. + +Of the other personages of the story it is not necessary here to +speak--they will relieve the author of that trouble; yet he cannot +refrain from asking in advance a friendly consideration for Miss +Redbud. He trusts that her simplicity and innocence will gain for +her the hearts of all who admire those qualities; and that in +consideration of her liking for her friend Verty, that these friends +of her own will bestow a portion of their approbation upon the young +woodman: pity him when he incurs the displeasure of Mr., Jinks: +sympathise with him when he is overwhelmed by the reproaches of +Mr. Roundjacket, and rejoice with him when, in accordance with the +strictest rules of poetic justice, he is rewarded for his kindness and +honesty by the possession of the two things which he coveted the most +in the world. + +RICHMOND, _June_, 1856. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS. + + + "_If we shadows have offended, + Think but this, (and all is mended,) + That you have but slumbered here + While these visions did appear; + And this weak and idle theme + No more yielding than a dream, + Gentles, do not reprehend_." + + MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS, + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +AT APPLE ORCHARD. + + +On a bright October morning, when the last century was rapidly going +down hill, and all old things began to give way to the new, the sun +was shining in upon the breakfast room at Apple Orchard with a joyous +splendor, which, perhaps, he had never before displayed in tarrying at +that domain, or any other. + +But, about Apple Orchard, which we have introduced to the reader in +a manner somewhat abrupt and unceremonious. It was one of those old +wooden houses, which dot our valleys in Virginia almost at every +turn--contented with their absence from the gay flashing world of +cities, and raising proudly their moss-covered roofs between the +branches of wide spreading oaks, and haughty pines, and locusts, +burdening the air with perfume. Apple Orchard had about it an +indefinable air of moral happiness and domestic comfort. It seemed +full of memories, too; and you would have said that innumerable +weddings and christenings had taken place there, time out of +mind, leaving their influence on the old homestead, on its very +dormer-windows, and porch trellis-work, and clambering vines, and even +on the flags before the door, worn by the feet of children and slow +grandfathers. + +Within, everything was quite as old-fashioned; over the mantel-piece +a portrait, ruffled and powdered, hung; in the corner a huge clock +ticked; by the window stood a japanned cabinet; and more than one +china ornament, in deplorably grotesque taste, spoke of the olden +time. + +This is all we can say of the abode of Mr. Adam Summers, better known +as Squire Summers, except that we may add, that Apple Orchard was +situated not very far from Winchester, and thus looked upon the beauty +of that lovely valley which poor Virginia exiles sigh for, often, far +away from it in other lands. + +The sun shines for some time upon the well-ordered room, wherein the +breakfast-table is set forth, and in whose wide country fire-place +a handful of twigs dispel with the flame which wraps them the cool +bracing air of morning; then the door opens, and a lady of some thirty +autumns, with long raven curls and severe aspect, enters, sailing +in awful state, and heralded by music, from the rattling keys which +agitate themselves in the basket on her arm, drowning the rustle +of her dress. This is Miss Lavinia, the Squire's cousin, who has +continued to live with him since the death of his wife, some years +since. + +The severe lady is superintending the movements of the brisk negro +boy who attends to breakfast, when the Squire himself, a fat, rosy, +good-humored old gentleman, in short breeches and ruffles, makes his +appearance, rubbing his hands and laughing. + +Then, behind him, rosier than her father, dewy like the morning, and +angelic generally, behold our little heroine--Miss Redbud Summers. + +Redbud--she received this pretty name when she was a baby, and as +usually befalls Virginia maidens, never has been able to get rid of +it. Redbud is a lovely little creature, whom it is a delight to look +upon. She has a profusion of light, curling hair, a fine fresh, tender +complexion, deep, mild eyes, and a mouth of that innocent and artless +expression which characterizes childhood. She is about sixteen, +and has just emerged from short dresses, by particular request and +gracious permission from Miss Lavinia, who is major-domo and manager +in general. Redbud is, therefore, clad in the morning-dress of young +ladies of the period. Her sleeves are ornamented with fluttering +ribbons, and her hair is brushed back in the fashion now styled +_Pompadour_, but quite unpowdered. Her ears, for even heroines are +possessed of them, are weighed down by heavy golden ear-rings, and a +cloud of plain lace runs round her neck, and gently rubs her throat. +Pensiveness and laughter chase each other over her fresh little face, +like floating clouds;--she is a true child of the South. + +The Squire sits down in the large chair, in the corner of the +fire-place, and takes Miss Redbud on his knee. Then commences a +prattle on the part of the young lady, interrupted by much laughter +from the old gentleman; then the Squire swears profanely at indolent +Caesar, his spaniel, who, lying on the rug before the fire, stretches +his hind feet sleepily, and so makes an assault upon his master's +stockings; then breakfast is ready, and grace being devoutly said, +they all sit down, and do that justice to the meal which Virginians +never omit. Redbud is the soul of the room, however, and even insists +upon a romp with the old gentleman, as he goes forth to mount his +horse. + +The Squire thus disappears toward the barn. Miss Lavinia superintends +the household operation of "washing up the tea things," and Redbud +puts on her sun-bonnet, and goes to take a stroll. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +VERTY AND HIS COMPANIONS. + + +Redbud is sauntering over the sward, and listening to the wind in the +beautiful fallwoods, when, from those woods which stretch toward the +West, emerges a figure, which immediately rivets her attention. It +is a young man of about eighteen, mounted on a small, shaggy-coated +horse, and clad in a wild forest costume, which defines clearly the +outline of a person, slender, vigorous, and graceful. Over his brown +forehead and smiling face, droops a wide hat, of soft white fur, below +which, a mass of dark chestnut hair nearly covers his shoulders with +its exuberant and tangled curls. Verty--for this is Verty the son, or +adopted son of the old Indian woman, living in the pine hills to the +west--Verty carries in one hand a strange weapon, nothing less than a +long cedar bow, and a sheaf of arrows; in the other, which also holds +his rein, the antlers of a stag, huge and branching in all directions; +around him circle two noble deer-hounds. Verty strongly resembles an +amiable wild cat; and when he sees Redbud, smiles more than ever. + +The girl runs toward him, laughing gaily-- + +"Oh, Verty!" she says, "indeed I am very glad to see you. Where have +you been?" + +With which, she gives him her hand. + +"At home," says Verty, with his bright, but dreamy smile; "I've got +the antlers for the Squire, at last." + +And Verty throws the rein on the neck of his little horse, who stands +perfectly still, and leaps lightly to the ground. He stands for a +moment gazing at Redbud with his dreamy and smiling eyes, silent in +the sunshine like a shadow, then he pushes back his tangled chestnut +curls, and laughs. + +"I had a long chase," he says. + +"For the deer?" + +"Yes," says Verty, "and there are his horns. Oh, how bright you look." + +Redbud returns his smile. + +"I think I didn't live before I knew you; but that was long years +ago," says Verty, "a very long time ago." + +And leaning for a moment on his bow, the forest boy gazes with his +singular dreamy look on Redbud, who smiles. + +"Papa has gone out riding," she says, "but come, let's go in, and put +up the antlers." + +Verty assents readily to this, and speaking to his horse in some +outlandish tongue, leaves him standing there, and accompanies Redbud +toward the house. + +"What was that you said?" she asked; "I didn't understand." + +"Because you don't know Delaware," said Verty, smiling. + +"Was it Indian?" + +"Yes, indeed. I said to Cloud--that's his name you know--I told him to +_crouch_; that means, in hunter language, _keep still_." + +"How strange!" + +"Is it? But I like the English better, because you don't speak +Delaware, my own tongue; you speak English." + +"Oh, yes!" Redbud says. + +"I don't complain of your not speaking Delaware," says Verty, "for how +could you, unless _ma mere_ had taught you? She is the only Indian +about here." + +"You say _ma mere_--that means, 'my mother,' don't it?" + +"Yes; oh, she knows French, too. You know the Indian and the French--I +wonder who the French are!--used to live and fight together." + +"Did they?" + +Verty nods, and replies--"In the old days, a long, long time ago." + +Redbud looks down for a moment, as they walk on toward the house, +perusing the pebbles. Then she raises her head and says-- + +"How did you ever come to be the old Indian woman's son, Verty?" + +Verty's dreamy eyes fall from the sky, where a circling hawk had +attracted his attention, to Redbud's face. + +"Anan?" he says. + +Redbud greets this exhibition of inattention with a little pout, which +is far from unbecoming, and too frank to conceal anything, says, +smiling-- + +"You are not listening to me. Indeed, I think I am worth more +attention than that hawk." + +"Oh yes, indeed you are!" cries Verty; "but how can you keep a poor +Indian boy from his hunting? How that fellow darts now! Look what +bright claws he has! Hey, come a little nearer, and you are mine!" + +Verty laughs, and takes an arrow. + +Redbud lays her hand upon his arm. Verty looks at the hand, then at +her bright face, laughing. + +"What's the matter?" he says. + +"Don't kill the poor hawk." + +"Poor hawk? poor chickens!" says Verty, smiling. "Who could find fault +with me for killing him? Nothing to my deer! You ought to have seen +the chase, Redbud; how I ran him; how he doubled and turned; and when +I had him at bay, with his eyes glaring, his head drooping, how +I plunged my knife into his throat, and made the blood spout out +gurgling!" + +Verty smiled cheerfully at this recollection of past enjoyment, and +added, with his dreamy look-- + +"But I know what I like better even than hunting. I like to come and +see you, and learn my lessons, and listen to your talking and singing, +Redbud." + +By this time they had reached the house, and they saw Miss Lavinia +sitting at the window. Verty took off his white fur hat, and made the +lady a low bow, and said-- + +"How do you do, Miss Lavinia?" + +"Thank you, Verty," said that lady, solemnly, "very well. What have +you there?" + +"Some deer horns, ma'am." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, the Squire said he wanted them," Verty replied. + +"Hum," said Miss Lavinia, going on with her occupation of sewing. + +Verty made no reply to this latter observation, but busied himself +fixing up the antlers in the passage. Having arranged them to his +satisfaction, he stated to Redbud that he thought the Squire would +like them; and then preferred a request that she would get her Bible, +and read some to him. To this, Redbud, with a pleasant look in her +kind eyes, gave a delighted assent, and, running up stairs, soon +returned, and both having seated themselves, began reading aloud to +the boy. + +Miss Lavinia watched this proceeding with an elderly smile; but +Verty's presence in some way did not seem agreeable to her, + +Redbud closed the book, and said:-- + +"That is beautiful, isn't it, Verty?" + +"Yes," replied the boy, "and I would rather hear it than any other +book. I'm coming down every day to make you read for me." + +"Why, you can read," + +"So I can, but I like to _hear_ it," said Verty; "so I am coming." + +Redbud shook her head with a sorrowful expression. + +"I don't think I can," she said. "I'm so sorry!" + +"Don't think you can!" + +"No." + +"Not read the Bible to me?" Verty said, smiling. + +"I'm going away." + +Verty started. + +"Going away!--you going away? Oh no! Redbud, you mus'nt; for you know +I can't possibly get along without you, because I like you so much." + +"Hum!" said Miss Lavinia, who seemed to be growing more and more +dissatisfied with the interview. + +"I must go, though," Redbud said, sorrowfully, "I can't stay." + +"Go where?" asked the boy. "I'll follow you. Where are you going?" + +"Stop, Verty!" here interposed Miss Lavinia, with dignity. "It is not +a matter of importance where Redbud is going--and you must not follow +her, as you promise. You must not ask her where she is going." + +Verty gazed at Miss Lavinia with profound astonishment, and was about +to reply, when a voice was heard at the door, and all turned round. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +INTRODUCES A LEGAL PORCUPINE. + + +This was the voice of the Squire. It came just in time to create a +diversion. + +"Why, there are my antlers!" cried the good-humored Squire. "Look, +Rushton! did you ever see finer!" + +"Often," growled a voice in reply; and the Squire and his companion +entered. + +Mr. Rushton was a rough-looking gentleman of fifty or fifty-five, with +a grim expression about the compressed lips, and heavy grey eyebrows, +from beneath which rolled two dark piercing eyes. His hair was slowly +retreating, and thought or care had furrowed his broad brow from +temple to temple. He was clad with the utmost rudeness, and resembled +nothing so much as a half-civilized bear. + +He nodded curtly to Miss Lavinia, and took no notice whatever of +either Redbud or Verty. + +"Why, thank for the antlers, Verty!" said the good-humored Squire. +"I saw Cloud, and knew you were here, but I had no idea that you had +brought me the horns." + +And the Squire extended his hand to Verty, who took it with his old +dreamy smile. + +"I could have brought a common pair any day," he said, "but I promised +the best, and there they are. Oh, Squire!" said Verty, smiling, "what +a chase I had! and what a fight with him! He nearly had me under him +once, and the antlers you see there came near ploughing up my breast +and letting out my heart's blood! They just grazed--he tried to bite +me--but I had him by the horn with my left hand, and before a swallow +could flap his wings, my knife was in his throat!" + +As Verty spoke, his eyes became brighter, his lips more smiling, and +pushing his tangled curls back from his face, he bestowed his amiable +glances even upon Miss Lavinia. + +Mr. Rushton scowled. + +"What do you mean by saying this barbarous fight was pleasant?" he +asked. + +Verty smiled again:--he seemed to know Mr. Rushton well. + +"It is my nature to love it," he said, "just as white people love +books and papers." + +"What do you mean by white people?" growled Mr. Rushton, "you know +very well that you are white." + +"I?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir; no affectation: look in that mirror." + +Verty looked. + +"What do you see!" + +"An Indian!" said Verty, laughing, and raising his shaggy head. + +"You see nothing of the sort," said Mr. Rushton, with asperity; "you +see simply a white boy tanned--an Anglo-Saxon turned into mahogany by +wind and sun. There, sir! there," added Mr. Rushton, seeing Verty +was about to reply, "don't argue the question with me. I am sick of +arguing, and won't indulge you. Take this fine little lady here, and +go and make love to her--the Squire and myself have business." + +Then Mr. Rushton scowled upon the company generally, and pushed them +out of the room, so to speak, with his eyes; even Miss Lavinia was +forced to obey, and disappeared. + +Five minutes afterwards, Verty might have been seen taking his way +back sadly, on his little animal, toward the hills, while Redbud was +undergoing that most disagreeable of all ceremonies, a "lecture," +which lecture was delivered by Miss Lavinia, in her own private +apartment, with a solemnity, which caused Redbud to class herself with +the greatest criminals which the world had ever produced. Miss +Lavinia proved, conclusively, that all persons of the male sex were +uninterruptedly engaged in endeavoring to espouse all persons of the +female sex, and that the world, generally, was a vale of tears, of +scheming and deception. Having elevated and cheered Redbud's spirits, +by this profound philosophy, and further enlivened her by declaring +that she must leave Apple Orchard on the morrow, Miss Lavinia +descended. + +She entered the dining-room where the Squire and Mr. Rushton were +talking, and took her seat near the window. Mr. Rushton immediately +became dumb. + +Miss Lavinia said it was a fine day. + +Mr. Rushton growled. + +Miss Lavinia made one or two additional attempts to direct the +conversation on general topics; but the surly guest strangled her +incipient attempts with pitiless indifference. Finally, Miss Lavinia +sailed out of the room with stately dignity, and disappeared. + +Mr. Rushton looked after her, smiling grimly. + +"The fact is, Squire," he said, "that your cousin, Miss Lavinia, is a +true woman. Hang it, can't a man come and talk a little business with +a neighbor without being intruded upon? Outrageous!" + +The Squire seemed to regard his guest's surliness with as little +attention as Verty had displayed. + +"A true woman in other ways is she, Rushton," he said, smiling--"I +grant you she is a little severe and prim, and fond of taking her +dignified portion of every conversation; but she's a faithful and +high-toned woman. You have seen too much character in your Courts to +judge of the kernel from the husk." + +"The devil take the Courts! I'm sick of 'em," said Mr. Rushton, with +great fervor, "and as to _character_, there is no character anywhere, +or in anybody." Having enunciated which proposition, Mr. Rushton rose +to go. + +The Squire rose too, holding him by the button. + +"I'd like to argue that point with you," he said, laughing. "Come now, +tell me how--" + +"I won't--I refuse--I will not argue." + +"Stay to dinner, then, and I promise not to wrangle." + +"No--I never stay to dinner! A pretty figure my docket would cut, if I +staid to your dinners and discussions! You've got the deeds I came to +see you about; my business is done; I'm going back." + +"To that beautiful town of Winchester!" laughed the Squire, following +his grim guest out. + +"Abominable place!" growled Rushton; "and that Roundjacket is +positively growing insupportable. I believe that fellow has a mania on +the subject of marrying, and he runs me nearly crazy. Then, there's +his confounded poem, which he persists in reading to himself nearly +aloud." + +"His poem?" asked the Squire. + +"Yes, sir! his abominable, trashy, revolting poem, called--'The +Rise and Progress of the Certiorari.' The consequence of all which, +is--here's my horse; find the martingale, you black cub!--the +consequence is, that my office work is not done as it should be, and I +shall be compelled to get another clerk in addition to that villain, +Roundjacket." + +"Why not exchange with some one?" + +"How?" + +"Roundjacket going elsewhere--to Hall's, say." + +Mr. Rushton scowled. + +"Because he is no common clerk; would not live elsewhere, and because +I can't get along without him," he said. "Hang him, he's the greatest +pest in Christendom!" + +"I have heard of a young gentleman called Jinks," the Squire said, +with a sly laugh, "what say you to him for number two?" + +"Burn Jinks!" cried Mr. Rushton, "he's a jack-a-napes, and if he +comes within the reach of my cane, I'll break it over his rascally +shoulders! I'd rather have this Indian cub who has just left us." + +"That's all very well; but you can't get him." + +"Can't get him?" asked Rushton, grimly, as he got into the saddle. + +"He would never consent to coop himself up in Winchester. True, my +little Redbud, who is a great friend of his, has taught him to read, +and even to write in a measure, but he's a true Indian, whether such +by descent or not. He would die of the confinement. Remember what +I said about _character_ just now, and acknowledge the blunder you +committed when you took the position that there was no such thing." + +Rushton growled, and bent his brows on the laughing Squire. + +"I said," he replied, grimly, "that there was no character to be found +anywhere; and you may take it as you choose, you'll try and extract an +argument out of it either way. I don't mean to take part in it. As to +this cub of the woods, you say I couldn't make anything of him--see if +I don't! You have provoked me into the thing--defied me--and I accept +the challenge." + +"What! you will capture Verty, that roving bird?" + +"Yes; and make of this roving swallow another bird called a secretary. +I suppose you've read some natural history, and know there's such a +feathered thing." + +"Yes." + +"Very well," said Mr. Rushton, kicking his horse, and cramming his +cocked hat down on his forehead. "I'll show you how little you know of +human nature and character. I'll take this wild Indian boy, brought up +in the woods, and as free and careless as a deer, and in six months +I'll change him into a canting, crop-eared, whining pen-machine, with +quills behind his ears, and a back always bending humbly. I'll take +this honest barbarian and make a civilized and enlightened individual +out of him--that is to say, I'll change him into a rascal and a +hypocrite." + +With which misanthropic words Mr. Rushton nodded in a surly way to the +smiling Squire, and took his way down the road toward Winchester. + +"Well, well," said the old gentleman, looking after him, "Rushton +seems to be growing rougher than ever;--what a pity that so noble +a heart should have such a husk. His was a hard trial, however--we +should not be surprised. Rough-headed fellow! he thinks he can do +everything with that resolute will of his;--but the idea of chaining +to a writing-desk that wild boy, Verty!" + +And the old gentleman re-entered the house smiling cheerfully, as was +his wont. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HOW VERTY THOUGHT, AND PLAYED, AND DREAMED. + + +Verty took his weary way westward through the splendid autumn woods, +gazing with his dreamy Indian expression on the variegated leaves, +listening to the far cries of birds, and speaking at times to Longears +and Wolf, his two deer hounds. + +Then his head would droop--a dim smile would glimmer upon his lips, +and his long, curling hair would fall in disordered masses around +his burnt face, almost hiding it from view. At such moments Verty +dreamed--the real world had disappeared--perforce of that imagination +given him by heaven, he entered calm and happy into the boundless +universe of reverie and fancy. + +For a time he would go along thus, his arms hanging down, his head +bent upon his breast, his body swinging from side to side with every +movement of his shaggy little horse. Then he would rouse himself, and +perhaps fit an arrow to his bow, and aim at some bird, or some wild +turkey disappearing in the glades. Happy birds! the arrow never +left the string. Verty's hand would fall--the bow would drop at his +side--he would fix his eyes upon the autumn woods, and smile. + +He went on thus through the glades of the forest, over the hills, and +along the banks of little streams towards the west. The autumn reigned +in golden splendor--and not alone in gold: in purple, and azure and +crimson, with a wealth of slowly falling leaves which soon would pass +away, the poor perished glories of the fair golden year. The wild +geese flying South sent their faint carol from the clouds--the swamp +sparrow twittered, and the still copse was stirred by the silent croak +of some wandering wild turkey, or the far forest made most musical +with that sound which the master of Wharncliffe Lodge delighted in, +the "belling of the hart." + +Verty drank in these forest sounds, and the full glories of the +Autumn, rapturously--while he looked and listened, all his sadness +passed away, and his wild Indian nature made him happy there, in the +heart of the woods. Ever and anon, however, the events of the morning +would occur to him, sweeping over his upraised brow like the shadow of +a cloud, and dimming the brightness of his dreamy smiles. + +"How red the maples grow!" he said, "they are burning away--and the +dogwood! Poor oaks! I'm sorry for you; you are going, and I think +you look like kings--going? That was what Redbud said! She was going +away--going away!" + +And a sigh issued from Verty's lips, which betrayed the importance +he attached to Redbud's departure. Then his head drooped; and he +murmured--"going away!" + +Poor Verty! It does not require any very profound acuteness to divine +your condition. You are one more added to the list which Leander heads +in the old Grecian fable. Your speech betrays you. + +"Wild geese! They are early this year. Ho, there! good companions that +you are, come down and let me shoot at you. 'Crake! crake!' that is +all you say--away up there in the white clouds, laughing at me, I +suppose, and making fun of my bow. Listen! they are answering me from +the clouds! I wish I could fly up in the clouds! Travelling, as I +live, away off to the south!--leaving us to go and join their fellows. +They are wild birds; I've shot many of em'. Hark, Longears! see up +there! There they go--'crake! crake! crake!' I can see their long +necks stretched out toward the South--they are almost gone--going away +from me--like Redbud!" + +And Verty sighed piteously. + +"I wonder what makes my breast feel as if there was a weight upon it," +he said, "I'll ask _ma mere_." + +And putting spurs to Cloud, Verty scoured through the pine hills, and +in an hour drew near his home. + +It was one of those mountain huts which are frequently met with to +this day in our Virginian uplands. Embowered in pines, it rather +resembled, seen from a distance, the eyrie of some huge eagle, than +the abode of human beings, though eagles' eyries are not generally +roofed in, with poles and clapboards. + +The hut was very small, but not as low pitched as usual, and the place +had about it an air of wild comfort, which made it a pleasant object +in the otherwise unbroken landscape of pines, and huge rocks, and +browling streams which stretched around it. The door was approached +by a path which wound up the hill; and a small shed behind a clump of +firs was visible--apparently the residence of Cloud. + +Verty carefully attended to his horse, and then ascended the hill +toward the hut, from whose chimney a delicate smoke ascended. + +He was met at the door by an old Indian woman, who seemed to have +reached the age of three-score at least. She was clad in the ordinary +linsey of the period; and the long hair falling upon her shoulders was +scarcely touched with grey. She wore beads and other simple trinkets, +and the expression of her countenance was very calm and collected. + +Verty approached her with a bright smile, and taking her hand in his +own, placed it upon his head; then saying something in the Delaware +tongue, he entered the hut. + +Within, the mountain dwelling was as wild as without. From the brown +beams overhead were suspended strings of onions, tin vessels, bridles, +dried venison, and a thousand other things, mingled in inextricable +confusion. In the wide fire-place, which was supplied with stones for +and-irons, a portion of the lately slaughtered deer was broiling on +an impromptu and primitive species of gridiron, which would have +disgusted Soyer and astonished Vatel. This had caused the smoke; and +as Verty entered, the old woman had been turning the slices. Longears +and Wolf were already stretched before the fire, their eyes fixed upon +the venison with admiring attention and profound seriousness. + +In ten minutes the venison was done, and Verty and his mother ate in +silence--Verty not forgetting his dogs, who growled and contended for +the pieces, and then slept upon the rude pine floor. + +The boy then went to some shelves in the corner, just by the narrow +flight of steps which led to the old woman's room above, and taking +down a long Indian pipe, filled it with tobacco, and lit it. This +having been accomplished, he took his seat on a sort of wicker-work +bench, just outside of the door, and began to smoke with all the +gravity and seriousness of a Sachem of the Delawares. + +In a moment he felt the hand of the old woman on his shoulder. + +"Verty has been asleep and dreamed something," she said, calmly, in +the Delaware tongue. + +"No, _ma mere_, Verty has been wide awake," said the boy, in the same +language. + +"Then the winds have been talking to him." + +"Hum," said Verty. + +"Something is on my son's mind, and he has tied his heart up--_mal_!" + +"No, no," said Verty, "I assure you, _ma mere_, I'm quite happy." + +And having made this declaration, Verty stopped smoking and sighed. + +The old woman heard this sigh, slight as it was, with the quick ear of +the Indian, and was evidently troubled by it. + +"Has Verty seen the dove?" she said. + +The young man nodded with a smile. + +"Did they laugh?" + +"They laughed." + +"Did he come away singing?" + +Verty hesitated, then said, with an overshadowed brow-- + +"No, no, _ma mere_--I really believe he did not." + +The old woman pressed his hand between her own. + +"Speak," she said, "the dove is not sick?" + +Verty sighed. + +"No; but she is going away," he said, "and Miss Lavinia would not tell +me where. What a hawk she is--oh! she shall not harm my dove!" + +And Verty betook himself to gazing with shadowy eyes upon the sky. The +old Indian was silent for some time. Then she said-- + +"Trust in the Good Spirit, my son. We are not enough for ourselves. +We think we are strong and mighty, and can do everything; but a wind +blows us away. Listen, there is the wind in the pines, and look how it +is scattering the leaves. Men are like leaves--the breath of the Great +Spirit is the wind which scatters them." + +And the old Indian woman gazed with much affection on the boy. + +"What you say is worthy to be written on bark, mother," he said, +returning her affectionate glance; "the Great Spirit holds everything +in the hollow of his hand, and we are nothing. Going away!" added +Verty after a pause--"Going away!" + +And he sighed. + +"What did my son say?" asked the old woman. + +"Nothing, _ma mere. Ah le bon temp que ce triste jour_!" he murmured. + +The old woman's head drooped. + +"My son does not speak with a straight tongue," she said; "his words +are crooked." + +"_Non non_" said Verty, smiling; "but I am a little unwell, _ma mere_. +All the way coming along, I felt my breast weighed down--my heart was +oppressed. Look! even Longears knows I'm not the Verty of the old +time." + +Longears, who was standing at the door in a contemplative attitude, +fancied that his master called him, and, coming up, licked Verty's +hand affectionately. + +"Good Longears!" said. Verty, caressing him, "lie down at my feet." + +Longears obeyed with much dignity, and was soon basking in the +sunlight before the door. + +"Now, _ma mere_" Verty said, with his habitual smile, "we have been +calling for the clouds to come up, and shut out the sun; let us call +for the sunlight next. You know I am your Verty, and every day as I +grow, I get able to do more for you. I shall, some day, make a number +of pistoles--who knows?--and then think how much I could buy for you. +Good mother!--happy Verty!" + +And taking the old woman's hand, Verty kissed it. + +Then, leaning back, he reached through the window, and took down a +rude violin, and began to play an old air of the border, accompanying +the tune with a low chant, in the Indian fashion. + +The old woman looked at him for some moments with great affection, a +sad smile lighting up her aged features; then saying in a low tone, as +if to herself, "good Verty!" went into the house. + +Verty played for some time longer. Tired at last of his violin, he +laid it down, and with his eyes fixed upon the sand at his feet, began +to dream. As he mused, his large twilight eyes slowly drooped their +long lashes, which rested finally on the ruddy cheek. + +For some moments, Verty amused himself tracing figures on the sand +near Longears' nose, causing that intelligent animal to growl in his +sleep, and fight imaginary foes with his paws. + +From the window, the old Indian woman watched the young man with great +affection, her lips moving, and her eyes, at times, raised toward the +sky. + +Verty reclined more and more in his wicker seat; the scenes and images +of the day were mingled together in his mind, and became a dim wrack +of cloud; his tangled hair shaded his face from the sun; and, overcome +by weariness, the boy sank back, smiling even in his sleep. As he did +so, the long-stemmed Indian pipe fell from his hand across Longears' +nose, half covering the letters he had traced with it on the sand. + +Those letters were, in rude tracing: + +REDBUD. + +And to these Verty had added, with melancholy and listless smiles, the +further letters: + +GOING TO-- + +Unfortunately he was compelled to leave the remainder of the sentence +unwritten. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WINCHESTER. + + +Having followed the Indian boy from Apple Orchard to his lodge in the +wilderness, and shown how he passed many of his hours in the hills, it +is proper now that we should mount--in a figurative and metaphorical +sense--behind Mr. Rushton, and see whither that gentleman also bends +his steps. We shall thus arrive at the real theatre of our brief +history--we mean at the old town of Winchester, + +Every body knows, or ought to know, all about Winchester. It is not a +borough of yesterday, where the hum of commerce and the echo of the +pioneer's axe mingle together, as in many of our great western cities +of the Arabian Nights:--Winchester has recollections about it, and +holds to the past--to its Indian combats, and strange experiences +of clashing arms, and border revelries, and various scenes of wild +frontier life, which live for us now only in the chronicles;--to +its memories of Colonel Washington, the noble young soldier, who +afterwards became, as we all have heard, so distinguished upon a +larger field;--to Thomas Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, who came +there often when the deer and the wolves of his vast possessions +would permit him--and to Daniel Morgan, who emptied many fair cups on +Loudoun-street, and one day passed, with trumpets sounding, going +to Québec; again on his way to debate questions of importance with +Tarleton, at the Cowpens--lastly, to crush the Tory rising on Lost +River, about the time when "it pleased heaven so to order things, +that the large army of Cornwallis should be entrapped and captured at +Yorktown, in Virginia," as the chronicles inform us. All these men of +the past has Winchester looked upon, and many more--on strange, wild +pictures, and on many histories. For you walk on history there and +drink the chronicle:--Washington's old fort is crumbling, but still +visible;--Morgan, the strong soldier, sleeps there, after all his +storms;--and grim, eccentric Fairfax lies where he fell, on hearing of +the Yorktown ending. + +When we enter the town with Mr. Rushton, these men are elsewhere, it +is true; but none the less present. They are there forever. + +The lawyer's office was on Loudoun-street, and cantering briskly along +the rough highway past the fort, he soon reached the rack before his +door, and dismounted. The rack was crooked and quailed--the house was +old and dingy--the very knocker on the door frowned grimly at the +wayfarer who paused before it. One would have said that Mr. Rushton's +manners, house, and general surrounding, would have repelled the +community, and made him a thousand enemies, so grim were they. Not at +all. No lawyer in the town was nearly so popular--none had as much +business of importance entrusted to them. It had happened in his +case as in a thousand others, which every one's experience must have +furnished. His neighbors had discovered that his rude and surly +manners concealed a powerful intellect and an excellent heart--and +even this rudeness had grown interesting from the cynical dry humor +not unfrequently mingled with it. + +A huge table, littered with old dingy volumes, and with dusty rolls +of papers tied with red tape--a tall desk, with a faded and +ink-bespattered covering of brown cloth--a lofty set of "pigeon +holes," nearly filled with documents of every description--and a set +of chairs and stools in every state of dilapidation:--there was the +ante-room of Joseph Rushton, Esq., Attorney-at-Law and Solicitor in +Chancery. + +No window panes ever had been seen so dirty as those which graced the +windows--no rag-carpet so nearly resolved into its component elements, +had ever decorated human dwelling--and perhaps no legal den, from +the commencement of the world to that time, had ever diffused so +unmistakeable an odor of parchment, law-calf, and ancient dust! + +The apartment within the first was much smaller, and here Mr. Rushton +held his more confidential interviews. Few persons entered it, +however; and even Roundjacket would tap at the door before entering, +and generally content himself with thrusting his head through the +opening, and then retiring. Such was the lawyer's office. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN WHICH MR. ROUNDJACKET FLOURISHES HIS RULER. + + +Roundjacket was Mr. Rushton's clerk--his "ancient clerk"--though the +gentleman was not old. The reader has heard the lawyer say as much. +Behold Mr. Roundjacket now, with his short, crisp hair, his cynical, +yet authoritative face, his tight pantaloons, and his spotless shirt +bosom--seated on his tall stool, and gesticulating persuasively. He +brandishes a ruler in his right hand, his left holds a bundle of +manuscript; he recites. + +Mr. Rushton's entrance does not attract his attention; he continues to +brandish his ruler and to repeat his poem. + +Mr. Rushton bestows an irate kick upon the leg of the stool. + +"Hey!" says Roundjacket, turning his head. + +"You are very busy, I see," replies Mr. Rushton, with his cynical +smile, "don't let me interrupt you. No doubt perusing that great poem +of yours, on the 'Certiorari.'" + +"Yes," says Mr. Roundjacket, running his fingers through his hair, +and causing it to stand erect, "I pride myself on this passage. Just +listen"-- + +"I'd see your poem sunk first; yes, sir! burned--exterminated. I would +see it in Chancery!" cried the lawyer, in the height of his wrath. + +Mr. Roundjacket's hand fell. + +"No--no!" he said, with a reproachful expression, "you wouldn't be so +cruel, Judge!" + +"I would!" said Mr. Rushton, with a snap. + +"In Chancery?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Mr. Rushton." + +"Sir?" + +"Are you in earnest?" + +"I am, sir." + +"You distinctly state that you would see my poem consigned to--" + +"Chancery, sir." + +"Before you would listen to it?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +Roundjacket gazed for a moment at the lawyer in a way which expressed +volumes. Then slowly rubbing his nose: + +"Well, sir, you are more unchristian than I supposed--but go on! Some +day you'll write a poem, and I'll handle it without gloves. Don't +expect any mercy." + +"When I write any of your versified stuff, called poetry, I give you +leave to handle it in any way you choose," said the Judge, as we may +call him, following the example of Mr. Roundjacket. "Poetry is a thing +for school-boys and bread and butter Misses, who fancy themselves in +love--not for men!" + +Roundjacket groaned. + +"There you are," he said, "with your heretical doctrines--doctrines +which are astonishing in a man of your sense. You prefer law to +poetry--divine poetry!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler. + +"Roundjacket," said Mr. Rushton. + +"Judge?" + +"Don't be a ninny." + +"No danger. I'm turning into a bear from association with you." + +"A bear, sir?" + +"Yes sir--a bear, sir!" + +"Do you consider me a bear, do you?" + +"An unmitigated grizzly bear, sir, of the most ferocious and +uncivilized description," replied Roundjacket, with great candor. + +"Very well, sir," replied Mr. Rushton, who seemed to relish these +pleasantries of Mr. Roundjacket--"very well, sir, turn into a bear +as much as you choose; but, for heaven sake, don't become a poetical +bear." + +"There it is again!" + +"What, sir?" + +"You are finding fault with the harmless amusement of my leisure +hours. It's not very interesting here, if your Honor would please to +remember. I have no society--none, sir. What can I do but compose?" + +"You want company?" + +"I want a wife, sir; I acknowledge it freely." + +Mr. Rushton smiled grimly. + +"Why don't you get one, then?" he said; "but this is not what I meant. +I'm going to give you a companion." + +"A companion?" + +"An assistant, sir." + +"Very well," said Mr. Roundjacket, "I shall then have more time to +devote to my epic." + +"Epic, the devil! You'll be obliged to do more than ever." + +"More?" + +"Yes--you will have to teach the new comer office duty." + +"Who is he?" + +"An Indian." + +"What?" + +"The Indian boy Verty--you have seen him, I know." + +Mr. Roundjacket uttered a prolonged whistle. + +"There!" cried Mr. Rushton--"you are incredulous, like everybody!" + +"Yes, I am!" + +"You doubt my ability to capture him?" + +"Precisely." + +"Well, sir! we'll see. I have never yet given up what I have once +undertaken. Smile as you please, you moon-struck poet; and if you +want an incident to put in your trashy law-epic, new nib your pen to +introduce a wild Indian. Stop! I'm tired talking! Don't answer me. If +any one calls, say I'm gone away, or dead, or anything. Get that old +desk ready for the Indian. He will be here on Monday." + +And Mr. Rushton passed into his sanctum, and slammed the door after +him. + +On the next day the lawyer set out toward the pine hills. On the +road he met Verty strolling along disconsolately. A few words passed +between them, and they continued their way in company toward the old +Indian woman's hut. Mr. Rushton returned to Winchester at twilight. + +On Monday morning Verty rode into the town, and dismounted at the door +of the law office. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +IN WHICH ROUNDJACKET READS HIS GREAT POEM. + + +Three days after the events which we have just related, or rather +after the introduction of the reader to the three localities with +which our brief history will concern itself, Mr. Roundjacket was +sitting on his high stool in one corner of the office, preparing the +papers in a friendly suit in Chancery. + +It was about ten o'clock in the morning, and Verty, who rode home +every evening, had just come in and had taken his seat at the desk +in the corner appropriated to him, beneath the small dingy window, +looking out upon the yard. Longears was stretched at his feet. + +Verty's face was more dreamy and thoughtful than ever. The dim smile +still dwelt upon his lips, and though his countenance had as much of +the forest Indian character as ever, there was a languor about the +drooping eyelids, with their long lashes, and a stoop in the usually +erect neck, which betrayed the existence in the boy's mind of some +ever-present sadness. His costume was just what it had always +been--moccasins, deerskin leggings, a shaggy forest _paletot_, and +fringed leather gauntlets, which now lay by him near his white fur +hat. He had not changed by becoming a lawyer's clerk; but, on the +contrary, grown more wild, apparently from the very contrast between +his forest appearance and the dingy office. + +At times Verty would stretch out his hand, and, taking his cedar bow +from a chair, bend it thoughtfully, and utter the low Indian murmur, +which has been represented by the letters, "_ough_" so unsuccessfully; +then he would allow the weapon to slide from his nerveless hand--his +head would droop--the dim dreamy smile would light up his features +for an instant, and he would lean upon the desk and ponder--his +countenance half enveloped by the long tangled chestnut hair which +still flowed upon his shoulders in wild luxuriance. + +Tired of thinking at last, Verty sighed, and took up his pen. For some +moments it glided slowly over the law parchment, and the contortions +of Verty's face betrayed the terrible effort necessary for him to +make in copying. Then his eyes no longer sought the paper to be +transcribed--his face lit up for a moment, and his pen moved faster. +Finally, he rose erect, and surveyed the sheet, which he had been +writing upon, with great interest. + +Just beneath the words, "messuages, tenements, water courses, and all +that doth thereunto pertain," Verty had made a charming sketch of a +wild-fowl, with expanded wings, falling from the empyrean, with an +arrow through his breast. + +For some moments, the drawing afforded Verty much gratification: it +finally, however, lost its interest, and the boy leaned his head upon +his hand, and gazed through the window upon the waving trees which +overshadowed the rear of the building. + +Then his eyes slowly drooped--the dusky lashes moved tremulously--the +head declined--and in five minutes Verty was asleep, resting his +forehead on his folded arms. + +The office was disturbed, for the next quarter of an hour, by no sound +but the rapid scratching of Mr. Roundjacket's pen, which glided over +the paper at a tremendous rate, and did terrible execution among +plaintiffs, executors, administrators, and assigns. + +At the end of that time, Mr. Roundjacket raised his head, uttered a +prolonged whistle, and, wiping his pen upon the sleeve of his old +office coat, which bore a striking resemblance to the gaberdine of a +beggar, addressed himself to speech-- + +"Now, that was not wanted till to-morrow evening," he observed, +confidentially, to the pigeon-holes; "but, to-morrow evening, I may be +paying my addresses to some angelic lady, or be engaged upon my epic. +I have done well; it is true philosophy to 'make assurance doubly +sure, and to take a bond of fate.' Now for a revisal of that last +stanza; and, I think, I'll read it aloud to that young cub, as Rushton +calls him. No doubt his forest character, primitive and poetical, will +cause him to appreciate its beauties. Hallo!" + +Verty replied by a snore. + +"What, asleep!" cried Mr. Roundjacket. "Now, you young sluggard! do +you mean to say that the atmosphere of this mansion, this temple of +Chancery, is not enlivening, sprightly, and anti-slumbrous? Ho, there! +do you presume to fall asleep over that beautiful and entertaining +conveyance, you young savage! Wake up!" + +And Mr. Roundjacket hurled his ruler at Verty's desk, with the +accuracy of an experienced hand. The ruler came down with a crash, and +aroused the sleeper. Longears also started erect, looked around, and +then laid down again. + +"Ah!" murmured Verty, who woke like a bird upon the boughs, "what was +that, _ma mere_?" + +"There's his outlandish lingo--Delaware or Shawnee, I have no doubt!" +said Mr. Roundjacket. + +Verty rose erect. + +"Was I asleep? he said, smiling. + +"I think you were." + +"This place makes me go to sleep," said the boy. "How dull it is!" + +"Dull! do you call this office dull? No, sir, as long as I am here +this place is sprightly and even poetical." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Which means, in Iroquois or some barbarous language, that you don't +understand," replied Mr. Roundjacket. "Listen, then, young man, I mean +that the divine spirit of poesy dwells here--that nothing, therefore, +is dull or wearisome about this mansion--that all is lively and +inspiring. Trust me, my dear young friend, it was copying that +miserable deed which put you to sleep, and I can easily understand how +that happened. The said indenture was written by the within." + +And Mr. Roundjacket pointed toward the sanctum of Mr. Rushton. + +Verty only smiled. + +Mr. Roundjacket descended from his stool, and cast his eyes upon the +paper. + +"What!" he cried, "you made that picture! How, sir Upon my word, young +man, you are in a bad way. The youngster who stops to make designs +upon a copy of a deed in a law office, is on the high-road to the +gallows. It is an enormity, sir--horrible! dreadful!" + +"What the devil are you shouting about there!" cried the voice of Mr. +Rushton, angrily. And opening the door between the two rooms, the +shaggy-headed gentleman appeared upon the threshold. + +Roundjacket turned over the sheet of paper upon which Verty's design +had been made; and then turned to reply to the words addressed to him. + +"I am using my privilege to correct this youngster," he replied, with +a flourish of his ruler, apparently designed to impress the shaggy +head with the idea that he, Mr. Roundjacket, would not permit any +infringement of his rights and privileges. + +"You are, are you?" said Mr. Rushton. + +"Yes, sir," replied the clerk. + +"And what do you find to correct in Mr. Verty?" + +"Many things." + +"Specify." + +"With pleasure." + +And Mr. Roundjacket, inserting one thumb into the pocket of his long +waistcoat, pointed with the ruler to Verty's costume. + +"Do you call that a proper dress for a lawyer's clerk?" he said. "Is +the profession to be disgraced by the entrance of a bear, a savage, a +wild boy of the woods, who resembles a catamountain? Answer that, sir. +Look at those leggins!" + +And Mr. Roundjacket indicated the garments which reached to Verty's +knees, with the end of his ruler. + +"Well," said Mr. Rush ton, smiling, "I should think you might have +them changed without troubling me, Verty." + +The boy raised his head with a smile. + +"How would you like a new suit of clothes?" + +"I don't want any, sir." + +"But these won't do." + +"Why not, sir?" + +"They're too primitive, you cub. Clothes, sir, are the essence of +human society, and a man is known by his shell. If you wish to reap +those numerous advantages for your mother, you must be re-habited." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I mean you must dress like a Christian--get new clothes." + +Verty smiled. + +"You are willing, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well--that does honor to your filial affection, you handsome +savage. Roundjacket, take this young man up to O'Brallaghan's +to-morrow, and have his measure taken." + +"With pleasure," said Mr. Roundjacket, who had evidently taken a great +liking to Verty; "what sort of clothes?" + +Mr. Rushton looked at the subject of the conversation. Verty was +gazing through the window and dreaming. A smile passed over the grim +features, and a sort of sigh issued from the compressed lips of the +lawyer. + +"Three suits, Roundjacket," said Mr. Rushton; "one common, another +rich, another as elegant as O'Brallaghan can make. I really believe +this boy is going to amuse me." + +"A most remarkable youth," observed the clerk, "and draws sketches +with astonishing ease." + +"Ah?" + +"Don't you, young man?" + +Verty turned round, and interrogated Mr. Roundjacket with a look. He +had evidently not heard the question. + +"There, you are dreaming again, sir," said Mr. Rushton; "this will +never do--come, write away. The idleness of this world is revolting!" +he growled, returning to his sanctum, and closing the door with a +bang. + +Roundjacket pointed after him with his ruler. + +"An odd fish, young man," he said, shaking his head; "take care not to +make him your model. If you want a proper model to imitate, you need +not go far. Modesty, which is my weakness, prevents my saying more." + +And Mr. Roundjacket cleared his throat, and looked dignified. + +"It was my purpose, before this interruption," he said, after a pause +of some moments, "to read to you some portions of a work which will, +probably, be spoken of extensively by the world." + +And Mr. Roundjacket paused. Verty also was silent. + +"All countries," said the poetical gentleman, with a preparatory +flourish of his ruler, "have possessed localities famous in the +history of literature:--as Athens, in Greece; the Island of Scio, +where Homer first saw the light; and Stratford, where Shakspeare +appeared. Now, sir, reasoning from analogy, which is the finest +possible way of reasoning, we must conclude that Virginia has such a +locality, and I leave you to decide the probable situation of it. It +cannot be Williamsburg, the seat of government, for that place is +given up to the vanity of life--to balls and horseraces, meetings of +the House of Burgesses, and other varieties. Williamsburg, sir, cannot +become famous--it is too near the sea. Then there is the thriving +village of Richmond, to which they speak of moving the seat of +government. I suppose, sir, that no one asserts that Richmond is ever +likely to produce any remarkable men. Mark me, sir, that place +will never be famous--it is too far from the sea. Now, what is +the irresistible conclusion we arrive at from a view of these +incontestable facts," observed Mr. Roundjacket, endeavoring to catch +Verty's wandering eye; "why, my young friend, that Winchester here is +to be the celebrated locality--that the great poet of Virginia will +here arise! Is it not plain, sir?" + +"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, and roused from his abstraction by the +silence. + +"Ah, you are not very well accustomed to these trains of reasoning, +I perceive, sir," said Mr. Roundjacket; "but you will be able to +comprehend my meaning. I designed only to say, that this town will +probably be mentioned in many books, hereafter, as the residence of +some distinguished man. Of course, I do not express any opinion upon +that point--_I_ don't know who it will be; but I presume he will +follow the poetical calling from the vicinity of the mountains. Those +beautiful mountains will make his cheeks flush, sir, at all times. The +Shenandoah, more noble than even the Mississippi, will inspire him, +and possibly he will turn his attention to humor--possibly, sir, the +proceedings in courts of law may attract his attention--justification, +and cognovit, and certiorari. Let me read you a small portion of +a poem written upon those subjects by a very humble poet--are you +listening, Mr. Verty?" + +Verty aroused himself, and smiled upon Mr. Roundjacket--a proceeding +which seemed to be eminently satisfactory to that gentleman. + +With many preparatory, "hems," therefore, the poet commenced reading. + +At the risk of bringing down upon our heads the anathema of +antiquaries in general, we are compelled to forbear from making any +quotations from the Roundjacket Iliad. It was not quite equal to +Homer, and inferior, in many points, to both the Aeniad and the +Dunciad;--but not on that account did the poet undervalue it. He read +with that deep appreciation which authors in all ages have brought to +bear upon their own productions. + +Verty preserved a profound and respectful silence, which flattered the +poet hugely. He recited with new energy and pleasure--becoming, at +times, so enthusiastic, indeed, that a smothered growl from the +adjoining apartment bore soothing testimony to his eloquence. + +Mr. Roundjacket wound up with a gigantic figure, in which the muse of +Chancery was represented as mounted upon a golden car, and dispensing +from her outstretched hands all sorts of fruits, and flowers, and +blessings on humanity;--and having thus brought his noble poem to a +noble termination, the poet, modestly smiling, and ready for applause, +rolled up his manuscript, and raised his eyes to the countenance of +his silent and admiring listener--that listener who had been so rapt +in the glowing images and sonorous couplets, that he had not uttered +so much as a word. + +Verty was asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HOW VERTY SHOT A WHITE PIGEON. + + +Mr. Roundjacket's illusions were all dissipated--the attentive +listener was a sleeping listener--his poem, dreadful to think of, had +absolutely lulled Verty to slumber. + +We may understand the mortification of the great writer; the +_irritable genus_ had in him no unfit representative, thus far at +least. He caught Verty by the shoulder and shook him. + +"Wake up, you young savage!" he cried, "sleeping when I am reading to +you; rouse! rouse! or by the immortal gods I'll commit an assault and +battery upon your barbarous person! Savage! barbarian! monster!" + +Suddenly Mr. Roundjacket heard a hoarse growl, and something like +a row of glittering steel knives attracted his attention in the +direction of his legs. This phenomenon was caused by the opening of +Longears' huge mouth--that intelligent animal having espoused the +cause of his master, so rudely assaulted, and prepared for instant +battle. + +Fortunately, Verty woke up before the combat commenced; and seeing the +hound standing in a threatening attitude, he ordered him to lie down. +Longears obeyed with great alacrity, and was soon dozing again. + +Then commenced, on the part of Mr. Roundjacket, an eloquent and +animated remonstrance with Verty on the impropriety of that proceeding +which he had just been guilty of. It was unfeeling, and barbarous, and +unheard of, the poet observed, and but one thing induced him to pardon +it--the wild bringing up of the young man, which naturally rendered +him incapable of appreciating a great work of art. + +Verty explained that he had been hunting throughout the preceding +night--setting traps, and tramping over hill and through dale--and +thus he had been overcome by drowsiness. He smiled with great good +nature upon Mr. Roundjacket, as he uttered this simple excuse, and +so winning was the careless sunshine of his countenance, that honest +Roundjacket, uttering an expiring grumble, declared that nothing was +more natural than his drowsiness. In future, he said, he would select +those seasons when his--Verty's--senses were bright and wide-awake; +and he begged the young man not to fear a repetition of what he might +have heard--there were fifteen more cantos, all of which he would +read, slowly and carefully explaining, as he went along, any +difficulties. + +Verty received this announcement with great good humor, and then began +tracing over his paper, listlessly, the word "Redbud." That word had +been the key-note of his mind throughout the morning--that was the +real secret of his abstraction. + +Miss Lavinia had informed him on that morning, when she had dismissed +him from Apple Orchard, that Redbud was going away for the purpose of +being educated; and that he, Verty, would act very incorrectly if he +asked any one whither Redbud was going. Thus the boy had been rendered +gloomy and sad--he had wandered about Apple Orchard, never daring to +ask whither the young girl had gone--and so, in one of his wanderings, +had encountered Mr. Rushton, who indeed was seeking him. He had easily +yielded to the representations of that gentleman, when he assured him +that he ought to apply his mind to something in order to provide for +all the wants of his Indian mother--and this scheme was all the more +attractive, as the neighborhood of Apple Orchard, to which his steps +ever wandered, occasioned him more sadness than he had ever felt +before. Redbud was gone--why should he go near the place again? The +sunshine had left it--he had better seek new scenes, and try what +effect they would have. + +Therefore was it that Verty had become a lawyer's clerk; and it was +the recollection of these causes of sadness which had made the boy so +dull and languid. + +Without Redbud, everything seemed dim to him; and he could not ask +whither she had flown. + +This was his sad predicament. + +After receiving the assurance of Roundjacket's pardon, Verty, as we +have said, began scrawling over the copy of the deed he was making the +name of Redbud. This persevering and thoughtful occupation at last +attracted the attention of his companion. + +"Redbud!" asked the poet, "who is Redbud, my young friend? I should +conjecture that she was a young lady, from the name.--Stay, is there +not a Miss Redbud Summers, daughter of the Squire of said name?" + +Verty nodded. + +"A friend of yours?" + +"Yes," sighed Verty. + +Mr. Roundjacket smiled. + +"Perhaps you are making love to her?" he said. + +"Making love?" asked Verty, "what is that?" + +"How!" cried the poet, "you don't mean to say you are ignorant of the +nature of that divine sentiment which elevates and ennobles in so +remarkable a degree--hem!--all humanity!" + +"Anan!" said Verty, with an inquiring look. + +Mr. Roundjacket returned this look for some moments, preserving a +profound silence. + +"My young friend," he said at last, "how old are you?" + +"Eighteen, _ma mere_ says." + +"Who's _mommer_, pray?" + +"Mother." + +"Oh," said the poet, with some confusion, "the fact is, your +pronunciation--but don't let us discuss that. I was going to say, that +it is impossible for you to have reached your present period of life +without making love to some lady." + +Verty looked bewildered, but smiled. + +Mr. Roundjacket was astounded at finding such savage ignorance in his +companion;--he revolved in his mind the means of enlightening Verty, +in vain. + +At last he placed the end of his ruler upon his waistcoat, and said, +mysteriously: + +"Do you see me?" + +"Yes," replied Verty. + +"Well, sir, I made love to a young woman when I was six." + +Verty looked interested. + +"At twelve I had already had my heart broken three times," continued +Mr. Roundjacket; "and now, sir, I make it a point to pay my +addresses--yes, to proceed to the last word, the 'will you,' +namely,--once, at least, a year." + +Verty replied that this was very kind in Mr. Roundjacket, and then +rising, stretched himself, and took up his bow. + +"I feel very tired," he said, "I wish I was in the woods." + +And Verty turned his back on Mr. Roundjacket, strolled to the door, +and leaning on his bow, gazed languidly out upon the busy street. + +He presented a strange appearance there, at the door of the dingy +office, in the middle of the busy and thriving town. He seemed to have +been translated thither, from the far forest wilds, by the wave of +some magician's wand, so little did he appear to be a portion of the +scene. Verty looked even wilder than ever, from the contrast, and +his long bow, and rugged dress, and drooping hat of fur, would have +induced the passers-by to take him for an Indian, but for the curling +hair and the un-Indian face. + +Verty gazed up into the sky and mused--the full sunlight of the bright +October morning falling in a flood upon his wild accoutrements. + +By gazing at the blue heavens, over which passed white clouds, +ever-changing and of rare loveliness, the forest boy forgot the +uncongenial scenes around him, the reality;--and passing perforce of +his imagination into the bright realm of cloud-land, was again on the +hills, breathing the pure air, and following the deer. + +Verty had always loved the clouds; he had dreamed of Redbud often, +while gazing on them; and now he smiled, and felt brighter as he +looked. + +His forest instincts returned, and, bending his bow, he carelessly +fitted an arrow upon the leather string. What should he shoot at? + +There was a very handsome fish upon a neighboring belfry, which was +veering in the wind; and this glittering object seemed to Verty an +excellent mark. As he was about to take aim, however, his quick eye +caught sight of a far speck in the blue sky; and he lowered his bow +again. + +Placing one hand above his eyes, he raised his head, and fixed his +penetrating gaze upon the white speck, which rapidly increased in size +as it drew nearer. It was a bird with white wings, clearly defined +against the azure. + +Verty selected his best arrow, and placing it on the string, waited +until the air-sailer came within striking distance. Then drawing the +arrow to its head, he let it fly at the bird, whose ruffled breast +presented an excellent mark. + +The slender shaft ascended like a flash of light into the air--struck +the bird in full flight; and, tumbling headlong, the fowl fell toward +Verty, who, with hair thrown back, and outstretched arms, ran to catch +it. + +It was a white pigeon; the sharp pointed arrow had penetrated and +lodged in one of its wings, and it had paused in its onward career, +like a bark whose slender mast, overladen with canvas, snaps in a +sudden gust. + +Verty caught the pigeon, and drew the arrow from its wing, which was +all stained with blood. + +"Oh, what large eyes you have!" he said, smiling; "you're a handsome +pigeon. I will not kill you. I will take you home and cure your wing, +and then, if ever I again see Redbud, I will give you to her, my +pretty bird." + +Poor Verty sighed, and his eyes drooped as he thought of the girl. + +Suddenly, however, a small scroll of yellow paper encircling the +pigeon's neck, and concealed before by the ruffled plumage, caught his +eye. + +"Paper! and writing on it!" he said; "why, this is somebody's +pet-pigeon I have shot!" + +And tearing off the scroll, Verty read these words, written in a +delicate, running-hand: + +"_I am Miss Redbud's pigeon; and Fanny gave me to her_!" Verty +remained for a moment motionless--his eyes expanded till they +resembled two rising moons;--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon!" Then Redbud +was somewhere in the neighborhood of the town--she had not gone far +out into the wide, unknown world--this pigeon might direct him;--Verty +found a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind, like so many deer +in a herd, jostling each other, and entangling their horns. + +Surely, it would not be wrong for him to embrace this chance of +discovering Redbud's residence--a chance which seemed to have been +afforded him by some unseen power. Why should he not keep the bird +until its wing was healed, and then observe the direction of its +flight? Why not thus find the abode of one in whose society so much of +his happiness consisted? Was there any thing wrong in it--would any +one blame him? + +These were the questions which Verty asked himself, standing in the +October sunshine, and holding the wounded pigeon to his breast. And +the conclusion was ere long reached. He decided, to his own perfect +satisfaction, that he had the full right to do as he wished; and then +he re-entered the office. + +Mr. Roundjacket was busy at some more law papers, and did not observe +the object which he carried. Verty sat down at his desk; betook +himself to copying, having rejected the sketch-ornamented sheet; and +by evening had done a very fair day's work. + +Then he put on his hat, placed the wounded pigeon in his bosom, and, +mounting his horse, set forward toward the hills. + +"In three days," he said, "you will be cured, pretty pigeon, and then +I will let you go; and it will be hard if I don't follow your flight, +and find out where your mistress lives. Oh, me! I must see Redbud--I +can't tell why, but I know I must see her!" + +And Verty smiled, and went on with a lighter heart than he had +possessed for many a day. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +HAWKING WITHOUT A HAWK. + + +Verty nursed the wounded pigeon with the tenderness of a woman and the +skill of a physician; so that on the third day, as he had promised +himself, the bird was completely "restored to health." The wing had +healed, the eyes grown bright again, every movement of the graceful +head and burnished neck showed how impatient the air-sailer was to +return to his mistress and his home. + +"_Ma mere_" said Verty, standing at the door of the old Indian woman's +lodge, "I think this pretty pigeon is well. Now I shall carry it back, +and I know I shall find Redbud." + +Verty, it will be seen, had concealed nothing from his mother; indeed, +he never concealed anything from anybody. He had told her quite simply +that he wanted to see Redbud again; that they wouldn't tell him where +she was; and that the pigeon would enable him to find her. The old +woman had smiled, and muttered something, and that was all. + +Verty now stood with one hand on Cloud's mane, in the early morning, +ready to set forth. + +The pigeon was perched upon his left hand, secured to Verty's arm by a +ribbon tied around one of its feet. This ribbon had been given him by +Redbud. + +In the other hand he carried his rifle, for some days disused--at his +feet lay Longears and Wolf, in vain pleading with down-cast eyes for +permission to accompany him. + +"What a lovely morning!" said Verty, "and look at Cloud, _ma +mere_!--he seems to know it's fall. Then there's Wolf, who can't +understand what I told him about Mr. Rushton's not liking so many +dogs--see how sorry he is." + +"The gun makes him so," said the old woman; "he thinks my boy is going +a hunting." + +"Maybe I shall--who knows?" Verty said. "If I see a deer upon my way, +good-bye to the law work!" + +And bounding lightly into the saddle--a movement which caused the +pigeon to open and flutter its wings--Verty smiled on the old woman, +placed his hand on his breast, and touched Cloud with his heel. + +Cloud shook his head, and set forward cheerfully, Longears galloping +by his master's side. + +Verty drank in the Autumn loveliness with that delight which he always +experienced in the fresh pure hills, with the mountain winds around +him. The trees seemed to be growing more and more gorgeous in their +coloring, and the cries of wild birds were far more jubilant +than ever. As he went on along the narrow bridle path, under the +magnificent boughs, his countenance was brighter and more joyous, and +he broke once or twice into a song. + +Suddenly, while he was humming thus in a low tune, to himself, a still +"croak!" attracted his attention, and he stopped abruptly. + +"Ah!" he murmured, "that's a good big gobbler, and I'll see about +him!" + +And Verty cautiously dismounted, and with one foot raised, listened +for a repetition of the sound. + +It was not long before the turkey's call was again heard from a thick +copse on his left. + +The young hunter turned, and imprisoning Cloud's nostril in his +nervous grasp, looked fixedly into that intelligent animal's eyes. +Cloud seemed to understand very well--nodded his head--drew a long +breath--and stood like a statue. Verty then placed his foot upon +Longears, made a gesture with his hand, and Longears showed himself +equally docile. He laid down, and without moving, followed his master +with his eyes, and listened. + +Verty crept noiselessly, without treading on a leaf or a twig, to a +neighboring thicket, from which the horse and dog were not visible. +He then lay down in the bushy top of a fallen pine, and without the +assistance of any "call," such as hunters generally make use of, +uttered the low, cautious cry of the wild turkey. This he repeated a +number of times, and then remained still. + +For ten or fifteen minutes no noise disturbed the stillness of the +forest; all was quiet. Then a slight agitation of the leaves was +visible at the distance of fifty or sixty yards, and a magnificent +gobbler made his appearance, moving his bright head, and darting upon +every side glances of curiosity and circumspection. + +He was looking for the female who had called him. + +Verty cocked his rifle, and uttered the low croak again. + +This seemed to remove any fears which the turkey had--he replied +to it, and advanced toward Verty's impromptu "blind." A streak of +sunlight through the boughs fell on his burnished neck and brilliant +head, and he paused again. + +Verty ran his eye along the barrel--covered the turkey bashaw's head, +and fired. The ball passed through the fowl's throat, and he fell +back with violent flutterings--no longer anything but the memory of a +living turkey. + +"Very well," said Verty, smoothing the head of his pigeon, which had +been greatly startled by the explosion, "I can shoot better than +that--I ought to have hit your eye, Monsieur." + +And going to the spot he took up the turkey, and then returned to +Cloud, who, with Longears at his feet, remained perfectly quiet, + +Verty tied the turkey to his saddle-bow, and went on laughing. He made +his entry into Winchester in this extremely lawyer-like guise; that is +to say, in moccasins and leggins, with a rifle in one hand, a pigeon +on the wrist of the other, and a turkey dangling at his horse's side. +Cloud, in order to complete the picture, was shaggier than ever, and +Verty himself had never possessed so many tangled curls. His shoulders +were positively covered with them. + +Unfortunately Winchester had no artist at the period. + +Mr. Roundjacket was standing at the door of the office, and he greeted +Verty with a loud laugh. + +"You young savage!" he said, "there you are looking like a barbarous +backwoodsman, when we are trying our very best to make a respectable +lawyer of you." + +Verty smiled, and let Cloud dip his muzzle into the trough of a pump +which stood by the door, venerable-looking and iron-handled, like all +parish pumps. + +"What excuse have you, young man?" said Mr. Roundjacket. "The +individual who arrives late at the locality of his daily exercitation +will eventually become a candidate for the high and responsible +position of public suspension." + +"_Anan_? said Verty, who was not accustomed to paraphrase. Then +turning his eyes toward the pigeon, he said: + +"Pretty fellow! Oh! will you show me the way? You shall--to see +Redbud!" + +And Verty, for the first time, seemed to realize the fact, that he +could see her again. His countenance became brilliant--his eyes were +filled with light--his lips wreathed with smiles. + +Mr. Roundjacket was astounded. + +"Young man," he said, sticking his pen behind his ear, "I should +be pleased to know what you are thinking about! You are really +extravagant, sir--you need the purifying and solidifying influence of +the law; believe me--hey! what are you doing there?" + +Verty was gnawing off the ribbon from the pigeon's foot, tied too +tightly; he could not undo it, and having no knife, used his sharp +white teeth for the purpose. + +The pigeon sank down toward the horizon--seemed about to +disappear--Verty uttered a deep sigh. But no: the bird suddenly +pauses, drops from the clouds, and settles upon the roof of a house +crowning a grassy hill, which hill was distant from Verty not more +than a quarter of a mile. + +A smile of delight passed over Verty's countenance. He had found +Redbud--she was there! + +There was no longer any necessity for such headlong speed--he could go +on slowly now--the goal was near, and would not fly as he approached. + +Verty drew near the house, which was a tall, wooden structure, +embowered in trees, and carefully reconnoitered with true +huntsman-like precision. He thought that the place looked like the +residence of Redbud--it was so bright, and sunny, and cheerful. + +On the roof sat the returned pigeon, cooing, and pluming his wings +among his fellows. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +VERTY MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF MR. JINKS. + + +Just as Verty was making this latter observation, his smiling eyes +fixed on the mansion before him, he heard a voice at his feet, so to +speak, which had the effect of bringing him to earth once more, and +this voice said, loftily-- + +"You seem to be interested, sir--handsome house, sir--very handsome +house, sir--also the occupants thereof." + +Verty looked, and descried a gentleman of very odd appearance, who was +looking at him intently. This gentleman was slender of limb, and tall; +his lower extremities were clad in a tight pair of short breeches, +beneath which, scarlet stockings plunged themselves into enormous +shoes, decorated with huge rosettes; his coat was half-military, +half-fop; and a long sword buckled round his waist, knocked +against his fantastic grasshopper legs. His hair was frizzled; his +countenance, a most extraordinary one; his manner, a mixture of the +hero and the bully, of noble dignity and truculent swagger, as if +Ancient Pistol had taken the part of Coriolanus, and had not become +proficient wholly in his lofty personation. + +When this gentleman walked, his long sword bobbed, as we have said, +against his legs; when he bowed, his attitude was full of dignity; +when he grimaced, he presented an appearance which would have +made Punchinello serious, and induced a circus clown to fall into +convulsions of despair. + +This was the figure which now stood before Verty, and caused that +young man to lower his eyes from the roof and the pigeons. Verty +looked at the gentleman for a moment, and smiled. + +"It is a handsome house," he said. + +"Handsome?" said the tall gentleman, with dignity. "I believe you. +That house, sir, is the finest I ever saw." + +"Is it?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir." + +Verty nodded. + +"I am a traveller, sir." + +"Are you?" + +"I am," said the military gentleman, solemnly. "I have been +everywhere, sir; and even in Philadelphia and Paris there is nothing +like that house." + +"Indeed?" Verty said, surveying the remarkable edifice. + +"Do you see the portico?" said the gentleman, frowning. + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"That, sir, is exactly similar to the Acropolis--Pantheon at Rome." + +"Eh?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir; and then the wings--do you see the wings?" + +"Plainly," said Verty. + +"Those, sir, are modeled on the State-House in Paris, and are intended +to shelter the youthful damsels, here assembled, as the wings of a hen +do the chickens of her bosom--hem! Cause and effect, sir--philosophy +and poetry unite to render this edifice the paragon and brag of +architectural magnificence." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"I see you speak French." + +"That ain't French." + +"No? Then it's something else. Going up there?" + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"Fine turkey that. For the old lady?" + +"Who's the old lady?" + +"Old Mrs. Scowley--a model of the divine sex, sir." + +"No, it ain't for her," said Verty, smiling. + +"For Miss Sallianna?" + +"Who's that?" + +"I see, sir, that you are not acquainted with this still more divine +specimen of the--hum--I said that once before. Miss Sallianna, sir, is +the beautiful sister of the respected Scowley." + +"And who is here besides, if you please?" said Verty. + +"A number of charming young ladies, sir. It is a seminary, sir,--an +abode of science and accomplishments generally, sir;--the delights +of philosophy, sir, take up their chosen dwelling here, and--stop! +there's my soul's idol! Jinks will never have another!" + +And Mr. Jinks kissed his hand, and grimaced at a young lady who +appeared at the gate, with a book in her hand. + +This young lady was Redbud. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +HOW VERTY DISCOVERED IN HIMSELF A GREAT FONDNESS FOR APPLES. + + +Verty threw himself from his horse, and ran forward toward Redbud with +an expression of so much joy, that even Longears perceived it; and, in +the excess of his satisfaction, reared up on Mr. Jinks, claiming his +sympathy. + +Mr. Jinks brushed his clothes, and protested, frowning. Verty did not +hear him, however--he was at the gate with Redbud. + +"Oh!" he cried, "how glad I am to see you! What in the world made you +come here, Redbud, and stay away from me so long!" + +Redbud blushed, and murmured something. + +"Never mind," said Verty; "I'm so glad to see you, that I won't +quarrel." + +And he pressed the little hand which he held with such ardor, that +Redbud blushed more than ever. + +But she had scarcely uttered a word--scarcely smiled on him. What did +it mean? Poor Verty's face began to be overclouded. + +What did it mean. That is not a very difficult question to us, however +much it might have puzzled Verty. It meant that Miss Lavinia had +suggested to Redbud the impropriety of remaining on terms of +cordiality and friendship with a young gentleman, who, after the +fashion of all youths, in all ages of the world, was desperately +anxious to become some young lady's husband. It meant that the +"lecture" of this great female philosopher had produced its +effect,--that Miss Redbud had waked to a consciousness of the fact, +that she was a "young lady," and that her demeanor toward Verty was +improper. + +Before, she had thought that there was no great impropriety in running +to meet the forest boy, with whom she had played for years, and whom +she knew so very well. Now this was changed. Cousin Lavinia saw a +decided impropriety in her meeting Verty with a bright smile, and +giving him her hand, and saying, in her frank, affectionate voice: +"Oh! I'm so glad to see you!" Of course, cousin Lavinia knew all about +it; and it was very dreadful in her to have been treating Verty with +so little ceremony--very, very dreadful. Was she not growing up, and +even did she not wear long dresses? Was such conduct in a lady of +sixteen proper? + +So, innocence listened to worldly wisdom, and pride overturned +simplicity; and, in consequence, our friend Verty found himself +opposite a young lady who blushed, and exhibited a most unaccountable +constraint, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, when he was +ready for, and expected, the most enthusiastic greeting. + +We must, however, speak of another influence which made Redbud so +cool;--and this will, very probably, have occurred to our lady +readers, if we have any, as the better explanation. Separation! Yes, +the separation which stimulates affection, and bathes the eyes in the +languid dews of memory. Strephon is never so devoted as when Chloe has +been removed from him--when his glances seek for her in vain on the +well-remembered lawn. And Chloe, too, is disconsolate, when she no +longer sees the crook of her shepherd, or hears the madrigals he +sings. Absence smoothes all rough places; and the friend from whom we +are separated, takes the dearest place in the heart of hearts. + +Redbud did not discover how much she loved Verty, until she was gone +from him, and the fresh music of his laughter was no longer in her +ears. Then she found that he held a very different place in her heart +from what she had supposed;--or rather, to speak more accurately, she +did not reflect in the least upon the matter, but only felt that he +was not there near her, and that she was not happy. + +This will explain the prim little ladylike air of bashfulness and +constraint which Redbud exhibited, when her eyes fell on Verty, and +the coolness with which she gave him her hand. The old things had +passed away--Verty could be the boy-playmate no more, however much it +grieved her. Thus reflected Miss Redbud; and in accordance with this +train of reasoning, did she conduct herself upon the occasion of which +we speak. + +So, to Strephon's request to be informed why she came thither, without +telling him, Chloe replied with a blush: + +"Oh, I came to school--sir," she was about to add, but did not. + +"To school? Is this a school for young ladies?" + +Redbud, with a delicate little inclination of the head, said yes. + +"Well," Verty went on, "I am glad I found you; for, Redbud, you can't +tell how I've been feeling, ever since you went away. It seemed to me +that there was a big weight resting on my breast." + +Redbud colored, and laughed. + +"Sometimes," said Verty, smiling, "I would try and get it away by +drawing in my breath, and ever so long; but I could'nt," he added, +shaking his head; "I don't know what it means." + +Mr. Jinks, who was dusting his rosetted shoes with a white pocket +handkerchief, grimaced at this. + +"Well, well," Verty went on, "I begin to feel better now, since I've +seen you; and, I think, I'll do better in my office work." + +"Office work?" asked Redbud, beginning to grow more like her former +self. + +"Oh, yes!" Verty replied; "I'm in Mr. Rushton's office now, and I'm a +lawyer's clerk;--that's what they call it, I believe." + +Redbud returned his bright smile. Her eye wandered toward Cloud, who +stood perfectly still--the turkey, which had not been removed, yet +dangling at his saddle-bow. + +Verty followed the young girl's glance, and smiled. + +"I know what you are looking at," he said; "you are looking at that +wild turkey, and thinking that I am a poor sort of a lawyer, with such +a book to read out of. But I shot him coming along." + +Redbud laughed; her coolness could not last in Verty's presence; his +fresh voice, so full of their old happy times, made her a child again. + +"And how did you find me'?" she said, in her old tone. + +"By your pigeon!" + +"My pigeon? + +"Yes, indeed; I shot him." + +"You shot him, Verty?" + +Verty experienced,--he knew not why,--a feeling of extreme delight, on +hearing his name from her lips. + +"Yes, I did so, Redbud," he replied, confidentially, "and I cured him, +too. Look at him, up there on the roof, coo-cooing! He was sailing +over the town, and I sent an arrow after him, and brought him straight +down." + +"Oh, Verty! how cruel!" + +"I never would 'a shot him if I had seen the name on his neck." + +"The name--yes--" + +"Yours, Redbud. There was a piece of paper, and on it--but here's the +paper." + +And Verty took from his bosom the yellow scroll, and placed it in +Redbud's hand. + +She took it, smiling, and read the words--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon, +and Fanny gave me to her." + +"Oh, yes," she said, "and I am glad he's come back; poor fellow, I +hav'nt seen him for days!" + +"I had him," said Verty. + +"At home?" + +"Yes." + +"Curing him?" + +Verty nodded. + +"You know that was what I wanted. I cured him, and then let him go, +and followed him, and found you." + +Verty, in an absent way, took Miss Redbud's hand, and was guilty of +the bad taste of squeezing it. + +The reply and the action seemed to recall Redbud to herself; and she +suddenly drew back with a blush. + +Verty looked astounded. In the midst of his confusion a martial +"hem!" was heard, and Mr. Jinks, who had been carefully adjusting his +toilette, drew near the lovers. + +"Hem!" said Mr. Jinks, "a very fine day, Miss Redbud. Loveliest of +your sex and delight of the world, have I the pleasure of seeing you +in that high state of happiness and health which of right should +belong to you?" + +With this Mr. Jinks bowed and gesticulated, and spread out his arms +like a graceful giraffe, and dispensed on every side the most engaging +grimaces. + +Redbud bowed, with an amused look in her little blushing face; and +just as she had got through with this ceremony, another personage was +added to the company. + +This was an elderly lady of severe aspect, who, clad in black, and +with an awfully high cap, which cast a shadow as it came, appeared at +the door of the house, and descended like a hawk upon the group. + +"Well, Miss Summers!" she said, in a crooked and shrill voice, +"talking to gentlemen, I see! Mr. Jinks, against rules, sir--come, +Miss, you know my wishes on this subject." + +As she spoke, her eyes fell upon the turkey hanging from Cloud's +saddle-bow. + +"Young man," she said to Verty, "what's the price of that turkey?" + +Verty was looking at Redbud, and only knew that the awful Mrs. Scowley +had addressed him, from Redbud's whispering to him. + +"_Anan_?" he said. + +"I say, what's the price of that turkey?" continued the old lady; "if +you are moderate, I'll buy it. Don't think, though, that I am going +to give you a high price. You mountain people," she added, looking at +Verty's wild costume, "can get along with very little money. Come, how +much?" + +Verty on that occasion did the only artful thing which he ever +accomplished--but what will not a lover do? + +He went to Cloud, took the fine gobbler from the saddle, and bringing +it to Mrs. Scowley, laid it at the feet of that awful matron with a +smile. + +"You may have him," said Verty, "I don't want him." + +"Don't want him!" + +"No, ma'am--I just shot him so--on my way to my writing." + +"Your writing, sir?" said Mrs. Scowley, gazing at Verty with some +astonishment--"what writing?" + +"I'm in Mr. Rushton's office, and I write," Verty replied, "but I +don't like it much." + +Mrs. Scowley for a moment endeavored to look Verty out of countenance, +but finding that the young man seemed to have no consciousness of the +fact, and that he returned her gaze with friendly interest, the ogress +uttered a sound between a snort and a cough, and said:-- + +"Then you did'nt come to sell the turkey?" + +"No, indeed, ma'am." + +"For what, then?" + +"I came to see Redbud," replied Verty; "you know, ma'am, that we know +each other very well; I thought I'd come." And Verty smiled. + +Mrs. Scowley was completely puzzled--she had never before seen a +gentleman of Verty's candor, and could find no words to reply. She +thought of saying to our friend that visiting a young lady at school +was highly criminal and reprehensible, but a glance at the fat turkey +lying on the grass at her feet, caused her to suppress this speech. + +As she gazed, her feeling relented more and more--Verty grew still +more amiable in her eyes--the turkey evidently weighed more than +twenty pounds. + +"I'm much obliged to you, young man," she said, "and I'll take the +turkey from you as a friend. Come in and have some apples--there's a +bell-mouth tree." + +"Oh yes!" said Verty, "I'm very fond of apples--but Redbud may have +some, too?" he added, smiling innocently. + +"Hum!" said the ogress. + +"Just a few, you know, ma'am," said Verty, with his bright smile. "I +know from the way she looks that she wants some. Don't you, Redbud?" + +Poor Redbud's resolutions all melted--Verty's voice did it all--she +blushed and nodded, and said yes, she should like very much to have +some apples. + +"Then you may go," said the ogress, somewhat mollified, "but don't +touch the small trees--I'm keeping them." + +"Not for worlds!" said Verty. + +"No, ma'am," said Redbud. + +And they crossed the lawn, and opening the gate of the spacious and +well-kept garden, passed in under the apple boughs. As for Mr. Jinks, +he accompanied Mrs. Scowley to the house, bowing, grimacing, ambling, +and making himself generally agreeable. True, he resembled a +grasshopper, standing erect, and going through the steps of a minuet; +but there was much elegance in Mr. Jinks' evolutions, and unbounded +elasticity of limb. He entered with Mrs. Scowley; and there, for the +present, we shall leave him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW STREPHON TALKED WITH CHLOE IN AN ARBOR. + + +It was a beautiful garden which Verty and Redbud entered, hand in +hand;--one of those old pleasure-grounds which, with their grass and +flowers, and long-armed trees, laden with fruit or blossoms, afford +such a grateful retreat to the weary or the sorrowful. The breath +of the world comes not into such places--all its jar and tumult and +turmoil, faint, die and disappear upon the flower-enameled threshold; +and the cool breath of the bright heavens fans no longer wrinkled +foreheads and compressed lips. All care passes from us in these +fairy-land retreats; and if we can be happy any where, it is there. + +We said that Verty and Redbud entered, hand in hand, and this may +serve to show that the young pupil of Miss Lavinia had not profited +much by the lessons of her mentor. + +In truth, Redbud began to return to her childhood, which she had +promised herself to forget; and, as a result of this change of +feeling, she became again the friend and playfellow of her childhood's +friend, and lost sight, completely, of the "young lady" theory. True, +she did not run on, as the phrase is, with Verty, as in the old +days--her manner had far more softness in it--she was more quiet and +reserved; but still, those constrained, restless looks were gone, and +when Verty laughed, the winning smile came to the little face; and the +small hand which he had taken was suffered to rest quietly in his own. + +They strolled under the trees, and Verty picked up some of the long +yellow-rinded apples, which, lay upon the ground under the trees, and +offered them to Redbud. + +"I didn't want the apples," he said, smiling, "I wanted to see you, +Redbud, for I've not felt right since you went away. Oh, it's been so +long--so long!" + +"Only a few days," said Redbud, returning the smile. + +"But you know a few days is a very long time, when you want to see +anybody very much." + +Redbud returned his frank smile, and said, with a delicious little +prim expression: + +"Did you want to see me very much, Verty?" + +"Yes, indeed; I didn't know how much I liked you," said the boy, with +his ingenuous laugh; "the woods didn't look right, and I was always +thinking about you." + +Redbud colored slightly, but this soon disappeared, and she laughed in +that low, joyous, musical tone, which characterized her. + +"There it is!" said Verty, going through the same ceremony; "that's +one thing I missed." + +"What?" + +"Your laughing!" + +"Indeed!" Redbud said. + +"Yes, indeed. I declare, on my word, that I would rather hear you +laugh, than listen to the finest mocking-bird in the world." + +"You are very gallant!" said Miss Redbud. + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"I mean you are very friendly to me, Verty," said Redbud, with a +bright look at his frank face. + +"Why, what have I done? I hav'nt done anything for you, for ages. Let +me see--can't I do something now? Oh yes, there are some flowers, and +I can make a nice wreath!" + +And Verty ran and gathered an armful of primroses, marigolds, and +golden rods; some late roses, too, and so returned to Redbud. + +"Now come to the arbor here--it's just like the Apple Orchard +one--come, and I'll make you a crown." + +"Oh! I don't deserve it," laughed the young girl. + +Verty smiled. + +"Yes, you do," he said, "for you are my queen." + +And he went and sat down upon the trellised bench, and began weaving a +wreath of the delicate yellow autumn primroses and other flowers. + +Redbud sat down and watched him. + +Placed thus, they presented a singular contrast, and, together, formed +a picture, not wanting in a wild interest--Verty, clothed in his +forest costume of fur and beads, his long, profusely-curling hair +hanging upon his shoulders, and his swarthy cheeks, round, and +reddened with health, presented rather the appearance of an Indian +than an Anglo-Saxon--a handsome wild animal rather than a pleasant +young man. Redbud's face and dress were in perfect contrast with all +this--she was fair, with that delicate rose-color, which resembles the +tender flush of sunset, in her cheeks; her hair was brushed back from +her forehead, and secured behind with a large bow of scarlet ribbon; +her dress was of rich silk, with hanging sleeves; a profusion of +yellow lace, and a dozen rosettes affixed to the dress, in front, set +off the costume admirably, and gave to the young girl that pretty +attractive _toute ensemble_ which corresponded with her real +character. + +As she followed Verty's movements, the frank little face wore a very +pleasant smile, and at times she would pick up and hand to him a leaf +or a bud, which attention he rewarded with a smile in return. + +At last the wreath was finished, and, rising up, Verty placed it on +Redbud's forehead. + +"How nicely it fits," he said; "who would have imagined that my +awkward fingers could have done it?" + +Redbud sat down with a slight color in her cheek. + +"I am very much obliged to you, Verty," she said; "it was very good in +you to make this for me--though I don't deserve it." + +"Indeed you do--you are my queen: and here is the right place for me." + +So saying, Verty smiled, and lay down at the feet of Redbud, leaning +on the trellised bench, and looking up into that young lady's eyes. + +"You look so pretty!" he said, after a silence of some moments, "so +nice and pretty, Redbud!" + +"Do I?" said Redbud, smiling and blushing. + +"And so good." + +"Oh, no--I am not!" + +"Not good?" + +"Far from it, Verty." + +"Hum!" said Verty, "I should like to know how! I might be better if +you were at Apple Orchard again." + +"Better?" + +"Yes, yes--why can't you live at Apple Orchard, where we were so +happy?" + +Redbud smiled. + +"You know I am growing up now," she said. + +"Growing up?" + +"Yes; and I must learn my lessons--those lessons which cousin Lavinia +can't teach me!" + +"What lessons are they?" + +"Music, and dancing, and singing, and all." + +Verty reflected. + +"Are they better than the Bible?" he said, at length. + +Redbud looked shocked, and replied to the young savage: + +"Oh no, no!--I hardly think they are important at all; but I suppose +every young lady learns them. It is necessary," added the little +maiden, primly. + +"Ah, indeed? well, I suppose it is," Verty replied, thoughtfully; "a +real lady could'nt get along without knowing the minuet, and all that. +But I'm mighty sorry you had to go. I've lost _my_ teacher by your +going." + +Redbud returned his frank look, and said: + +"I'm very sorry, Verty; but never mind--you read your Bible, don't +you?" + +"Yes," Verty replied, "I promised you; and I read all about Joseph, +and Nimrod, who was a hunter, and other people." + +"Don't you ever read in the New Testament?" Redbud said. "I wish you +would read in that, too, Verty." + +And Redbud, with all the laughter gone away from her countenance, +regarded Verty with her tender, earnest eyes, full of kindness and +sincerity. + +"I do," Verty replied, "and I like it better. But I'm very bad. I +don't think I'm so good when you are away, Redbud. I don't do what +you tell me. The fact is, I believe I'm a wild Indian; but I'll grow +better as I grow older." + +"I know you will," said the kind eyes, plainly, and Verty smiled. + +"I'm coming to see you very often here," he said, smiling, "and I'm +going to do my work down at the office--that old lady will let me come +to see you, I know." + +Redbud looked dubious. + +"I don't know whether cousin Lavinia would think it was right," she +said. + +And her head drooped, the long dusky lashes covering her eyes and +reposing on her cheek. It was hard for Redbud thus to forbid her +boy-playmate, but she felt that she ought to do so. + +"Think it right!" cried Verty, rising half up, and resting on his +hand, "why, what's the harm?" + +"I don't know," Redbud said, blushing, "but I think you had better ask +cousin Lavinia." + +Her head sank again. + +Verty remained silent for some moments, then said: + +"Well, I will! I'll go this very day, on my way home." + +"That's right, Verty," replied the young girl, smiling hopefully, "and +I think you will get cousin Lavinia to let you come. You know that I +want you to." + +Verty smiled, then looking at his companion, said: + +"What made you so cold to me when I came at first? I thought you had +forgotten me." + +Redbud, conscious of her feelings, blushed and hesitated. Just as she +was about to stammer out some disconnected words, however, voices +were heard behind the shrubbery, which separated the arbor from a +neighboring walk, and this created a diversion. + +Verty and Redbud could not help overhearing this conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +VERTY EXPRESSES A DESIRE TO IMITATE MR. JINKS. + + +The voice which they heard first was that of Mr. Jinks; and that +gentleman was apparently engaged in the pleasant occupation of +complimenting a lady. + +"Fairest of your sex!" said the enthusiastic Mr. Jinks, "how can I +express the delight which your presence inspires me with--ahem!" + +The sound of a fan coming in contact with a masculine hand was heard, +and a mincing voice replied:-- + +"Oh, you are a great flatterer, Mr. Jinks. You are really too bad. Let +us view the beauties of nature." + +"They are not so lovely as those beauties which I have been viewing +since I saw you, my dearest Miss Sallianna." + +("That's old Scowley's sister, he said so," whispered Verty.) + +"Really, you make me blush," replied the mincing and languishing +voice--"you men are dreadful creatures!" + +"Dreadful!" + +"You take advantage of our simplicity and confidence to make us +believe you think very highly of us." + +"Highly! divinest Miss Sallianna! _highly_ is not the word; +extravagantly is better! In the presence of your lovely sex we feel +our hearts expand; our bosoms--hem!--are enlarged, and we are all your +slaves." + +("Just listen, Redbud!" whispered Verty, laughing.) + +"La!" replied the voice, "how gallant you are, Mr. Jinks!" + +"No, Madam!" said Mr. Jinks, "I am not gallant!" + +"You?" + +"Far from it, Madam--I am a bear, a savage, with all the rest of the +female sex; but with you--you--hem! that is different!" + +("Don't go, Redbud!--" + +"But, Verty--" + +"Just a minute, Redbud.") + +"Yes, a savage; I hate the sex--I distrust them!" continued Mr. Jinks, +in a gloomy tone; "before seeing you, I had made up my mind to retire +forever from the sight of mankind, and live on roots, or something of +that description. But you have changed me--you have made me human." + +And Mr. Jinks, to judge from his tone of voice, was looking dignified. + +The fair lady uttered a little laugh. + +"There it is!" cried Mr. Jinks, "you are always happy--always smiling +and seducing--you are the paragon of your sex. If it will be any +satisfaction to you, Madam, I will immediately die for you, and give +up the ghost." + +Which Mr. Jinks seemed to consider wholly different from the former. + +"Heigho!" said the lady, "you are very devoted, sir." + +"I should be, Madam." + +"I am not worthy of so much praise." + +"You are the pearl of your sex, Madam." + +"Oh, no! I am only a simple young girl--but twenty-five last +January--and I have no pretensions in comparison with many others. +Immured in this quiet retreat, with a small property, and engaged in +the opprobrious occupation of cultivating the youthful mind--" + +"A noble employment, Madam." + +"Yes, very pleasing; with this, and with a contemplation of the +beautiful criterions of nature, I am happy." + +"Fairest of your sex, is this all that is necessary for happiness?" +observed Mr. Jinks. + +"What more!" + +"Is solitude the proper sphere of that divine sex which in all ages of +the world--ahem!--has--" + +"Oh, sir!" + +And the flirting of the fan was heard. + +"Should not woman have a companion--a consoler, who--" + +The fan was evidently used to hide a number of blushes. + +"Should not such a lovely creature as yourself," continued the +enthusiastic Jinks, "choose one to--" + +Redbud rose quickly, and said, blushing and laughing:-- + +"Oh, come, Verty!" + +"No, no--listen!" said Verty, "I do believe--" + +"No, no, no!" cried Redbud, hurriedly, "it was very wrong--" + +"What?--courting." + +"Oh, no! It's mean in us to listen!" + +And she went out of the arbor, followed by Verty, who said, "I'm glad +courting ain't wrong; I think I should like to court you, Redbud." + +Redbud made no reply to this innocent speech of Mr. Verty, but walked +on. The noise which they made in leaving the arbor attracted the +attention of the personages whose conversation we have been compelled +to overhear; and Mr. Jinks and his companion passed through an opening +in the shrubbery, and appeared in full view. + +Miss Sallianna was a young lady of thirty-two or three, with long +corkscrew curls, a wiry figure--a smile, of the description called +"simper," on her lips, and an elegant mincing carriage of the person +as she moved. She carried a fan, which seemed to serve for a number of +purposes: to raise artificial breezes, cover imaginary blushes, and +flirt itself against the hands or other portions of the persons of +gentlemen making complimentary speeches. + +She displayed some temporary embarrassment upon seeing Redbud and +Verty; and especially stared at that young gentleman. + +Mr. Jinks was more self-possessed. + +"Ah, my dear sir!" he said, stalking toward Verty, and grimacing, at +the same time, at Redbud, "are you there, and with the fairest of +her--hem!" + +And Mr. Jinks stopped, nearly caught in the meshes of his gallantry. + +"Yes, this is me, and I've been talking with Redbud," said Verty; "is +that Miss Sallianna?" + +The lady had recovered her simper; and now flirted her fan as +gracefully as ever. + +"See how your reputation has gone far and wide," said Mr. Jinks, with +a fascinating grimace. + +"You know you were talking of her when--how do you do, Miss +Sallianna," said Verty, holding out his hand. + +"La!" said the fair one, inserting the points of her fingers into +Verty's palm, "and Mr. Jinks was talking of me? What did he say, +sir,--I suppose it was in town." + +"No, ma'am," said Verty, "it was at the gate, when I came to see +Redbud--the pigeon showed me the way. He said you were something--but +I've forgot." + +"The paragon of beauties and the pearl of loveliness," suggested Mr. +Jinks. + +"I don't think it was that," Verty replied, "but it was something +pretty--prettier than what you said just now, when you were courting +Miss Sallianna, you know." + +Mr. Jinks cleared his throat--Miss Sallianna blushed. + +"Really--" said Mr. Jinks. + +"What children!" said the lady, with a patronizing air; "Reddy, do you +know your lesson?" + +By which question, Miss Sallianna evidently intended to reduce Miss +Redbud to her proper position of child. + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud "and Mrs. Scowley said I might come in +here." + +"With this--young man?" + +"Yes, ma'am. He is a very old friend of mine." + +"Indeed!" simpered the lady. + +"Are you not, Verty?" + +But Verty was intently watching Longears, who was trying to insert his +nose between two bars of the garden gate. + +"_Anan_?" he said. + +"La, what does he mean?" said the lady; "see! he's looking at +something." + +Verty was only making friendly signs to Longears to enter the garden. +Longears no sooner understood that he was called, than he cleared the +fence at one bound, and came up to his master. + +Mr. Jinks had not heard his own voice for at least half a minute; so +he observed, loftily: + +"A handsome dog! a very handsome dog, sir! What did you say his name +was? Longears? Yes? Here, Longears!" + +And he made friendly signs of invitation to the hound. Longears +availed himself of these indications of friendship by rearing up on +Mr. Jinks, and leaving a dust-impression of his two paws upon that +gentleman's ruffled shirt-bosom. + +Verty laughed, and dragged him away. + +"Longears," he said, "I'm surprised at you--and here, too, where you +should conduct yourself better than usual!" + +Miss Sallianna was about to say something, when a bell was heard to +ring. + +"Oh!" said Redbud, "there's school. Playtime's over." + +"Over?" said Verty, with an exhibition of decided ill-humor. + +"Yes, sir," said Miss Sallianna, "and my young pupil must now return +to her studies. Mr. Jinks--" + +And the lady threw a languishing glance on her cavalier. + +"You will come soon again, and continue our discussion--of--of--the +beauties of nature? We are very lonely here." + +"Will I come?" cried the enthusiastic Jinks; and having thus +displayed, by the tone in which his words were uttered, the depth of +his devotion, the grasshopper gentleman gallantly pressed the hand +held out to him, and, with a lofty look, made his exit out of the +garden. + +Verty followed. But first he said to Redbud, smiling: + +"I'm going to see Miss Lavinia this very day, to ask her to let me +come to see you. You know I must come to see you, Redbud. I don't know +why, but I must." + +Redbud blushed, and continued to caress Longears, who submitted to +this ceremony with great equanimity. + +"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "let us return, Miss Summers." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud; "good-bye, Verty," she added, looking at +the boy with her kind, smiling eyes, and lowering her voice, "remember +what you promised me--to read your Bible." + +And smiling again, Redbud gave him her hand, and then followed Miss +Sallianna, who sailed on before--her head resting languidly on one +shoulder--her fan arranged primly upon her maiden chin--her eyes +raised in contemplation to the sky. + +Poor Verty smiled and sighed, and followed Redbud with his eyes, and +saw her disappear--the kind, tender eyes fixed on him to the last. He +sighed again, as she passed from his sight; and so left the garden. +Mr. Jinks was swaggering amiably toward town--Cloud was standing, like +a statue, where his master had left him. Verty, leaning one arm on the +saddle, murmured: + +"Really, Redbud is getting prettier than ever, and I wonder if I am +what Mr. Roundjacket calls 'in love' with her?" + +Finding himself unable to answer this question, Verty shook his head +wisely, got into the saddle, and set forward toward the town, Longears +following duly in his wake. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE THIRTEENTH OF OCTOBER. + + +Just as the boy left the surburban residence of Miss Redbud, Mr. +Roundjacket, who had been writing at his old dusty desk for an hour, +raised his head, hearing a knock at the door. + +He thrust the pen he had been using behind his ear, and bade the +intruder "come in!" + +One of the clients of Mr. Rushton made his appearance, and inquired +for that gentleman. Mr. Roundjacket said that Mr. Rushton was +"within," and rose to go and summon him, the visitor meanwhile having +seated himself. + +Mr. Roundjacket tapped at the door of Mr. Rushton's sanctum, but +received no answer. He tapped louder--no reply. Somewhat irate at +this, he kicked the door, and at the same moment opened it, preparing +himself for the encounter. + +An unusual sight awaited him. + +Seated at his old circular table, covered with papers and books, Mr. +Rushton seemed perfectly ignorant of his presence, as he had not heard +the noise of the kick. His head resting upon his hand, the forehead +drooping, the eyes half closed, the bosom shaken by piteous sighs, +and the whole person full of languor and grief, no one would have +recognized the rough, bearish Lawyer Rushton, or believed that there +could be anything in common between him and the individual sitting at +the table, so bowed down with sorrow. + +Before him lay a little book, which he looked at through a mist of +tears. + +Roundjacket touched him on the shoulder, with a glance of wonder, and +said:-- + +"You are sick, sir!--Mr. Rushton, sir!--there is somebody to see you." + +In truth, the honest fellow could scarcely stammer out these broken +words; and when Mr. Rushton, slowly returning to a consciousness of +his whereabouts, raised his sorrowful eyes, Roundjacket looked at him +with profound commiseration and sympathy. + +"You have forgotten," said Mr. Rushton, in a low, broken voice, his +pale lips trembling as he spoke,--"you don't keep account of the days +as I do, Roundjacket." + +"The days--I--" + +"Yes, yes; it is natural for you to wonder at all this," said the +weary looking man, closing the book, and locking it up in a secret +drawer of the table; "let us dismiss the matter. Did you say any one +wanted me? Yes, I can attend to business--my mind is quite clear--I am +ready--I will see them now, Roundjacket." + +And the head of the lawyer fell upon his arm, his bosom shaken with +sobs. + +Roundjacket looked at him no longer with so much surprise--he had +understood all. + +"Yes, yes, sir--I had forgotten," he muttered, "this is the 13th of +October." + +Mr. Rushton groaned. + +Roundjacket was silent for a moment, looking at his friend with deep +sympathy. + +"I don't wonder now at your feelings, sir," he said, "and I am sorry I +intruded on--" + +"No, no--you are a good friend," murmured the lawyer, growing calmer, +"you will understand my feelings, and not think them strange. I am +nearly over it now; it must come--oh! I am very wretched! Oh! Anne! my +child, my child!" + +And allowing his head to fall again, the rough, boorish man cried like +a child, spite of the most violent efforts to regain his composure and +master his emotion. + +"Go," he said, in a low, broken voice, making a movement with his +hand, "I was wrong--I cannot see any one to-day--I must be alone." + +Roundjacket hesitated; moved dubiously from, then toward the lawyer; +finally he seemed to have made up his mind, and going out he closed +the door slowly behind him. As he did so, the key turned in the lock, +and a stifled moan died away in the inner chamber. + +"Mr. Rushton is unwell, and can't transact business to-day," said +Roundjacket, softly, for he was thinking of the poor afflicted heart +"within;" then he added, "you may call to-morrow, sir," + +The visitor went away, wondering at "Judge Rushton" being sick; such +a thing had never before occurred in the recollection of the "oldest +inhabitant." Just as he had disappeared, the door re-opened, and Verty +made his appearance. + +"I'm very sorry, Mr. Roundjacket," said the boy, "for having run off +so this morning, but you see I was after that pigeon. I'll stay till +night, though, and work harder, and then it will be right again." + +Instead of a very solemn and severe rebuke, Verty was surprised to +hear Mr. Roundjacket say, in a low and thoughtful voice:-- + +"You need not work any to-day, Verty--you can go home if you like. Mr. +Rushton is unwell, and wishes to be quiet." + +"Unwell?" said the boy, "you don't mean sick?" + +"Not precisely, but indisposed." + +"I will go and see him," said the boy, moving towards the door. Mr. +Roundjacket interposed with his ruler, managing that instrument pretty +much as a marshal does his baton. + +"No," he said, "that is impossible, young man. But you need give +yourself no uneasiness--Mr. Rushton is only a little out of sorts. You +will find him quite well to-morrow. Return home now. There is your +rifle." + +These words were uttered with so much decision, that Verty made no +further objection. + +"Well," he said, with his thoughtful smile, "I'm very sorry Mr. +Rushton is sick, but I'm glad I can go and hunt some for _ma mere_. +Must I go now, sir?" + +"Yes, and come early to-morrow, there's some work; and besides, your +measure for the clothes must be taken." + +Verty nodded indifferently, and taking up his rifle, went out, +followed by Longears. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE PEDLAR AND THE NECKLACE. + + +Verty mounted Cloud again, and set forward toward Apple Orchard. That +place very soon rose upon his sight, and riding up to the house Verty +encountered the good-humored Squire, who was just coming in from the +fields. + +"Good morning, Squire," said the boy, smiling, "may I go and see +Redbud, if you please?" + +The Squire laughed. + +"Redbud? What, at school, yonder?" + +"Yes, sir." + +The good-natured old gentleman looked at the boy's frank face, and +admired its honest, ingenuous expression. + +"I don't see why you should'nt, Verty," he replied, "if you don't go +too often, and keep my little 'Bud from her lessons." + +"Oh! no, sir." + +"Go, go by all means--it will be of service to her to see home faces, +and you are something like home to her. Short as the distance is, I +can't leave my farm, and we can't have 'Bud with us every week, as I +should wish." + +"I've just come from there," said Verty, "and Redbud is very well, and +seems to like the place. There is a man who comes there to see Miss +Sallianna, and Redbud most dies laughing at him--I mean, I suppose she +does. His name is Mr. Jinks." + +"What! the great Jinks? the soldier, the fop, the coxcomb and +swaggerer!" laughed the Squire. + +Verty nodded. + +"That's the very man, sir," he said, "and I saw him to-day. I came +back, and found Mr. Rushton wanted to be quiet, and Mr. Roundjacket +said I might go and hunt some for _ma mere_" + +"Go, then, Verty; that is, if you won't stop to dinner." + +"I don't think I can, sir--I should like to see Miss Lavinia, though, +if--" + +"Out visiting," said the Squire. + +This removed all Verty's scruples; he had virtually done what he +promised Redbud, and would now go and see her, because the Squire had +a better right to decide than even Miss Lavinia. He, therefore, bowed, +with a smiling look, to the old gentleman, and continued his way +toward the lodge of his mother. + +He had reached the foot of the hill upon which the cabin was situated, +when he saw before him, seated on a log by the side of the bridle-path +he was following, one of those pedlars of former times, who were +accustomed to make the circuit of the countryside with their packs +of wares and stuffs--peripatetic merchants, who not unfrequently +practised the trade of Autolycus. + +This man seemed to be a German; and when he spoke, this impression was +at once verified. He informed Verty that he was tired, very hungry, +had travelled a long way, and would be obliged to his honor for a +little bit of something, just to keep body and soul together till he +reached "Wingester." He had gone toward the house, he said, but a dog +there had scared him, and nobody seemed stirring. + +Verty very readily assented to this request, and first stabling Cloud, +accompanied the German pedlar to the cabin. The old Indian woman was +out in the woods gathering some herbs or roots, in the properties of +which she was deeply learned; and in her absence, Wolf had mounted +guard over the lodge and its contents. The pedlar had approached, +intent on begging, and, if possible, larceny; but Wolf had quickly +bared a double row of long, sharp teeth, which ceremony he had +accompanied with an ominous growl, and this had completely daunted +Autolycus, who had retreated with precipitation. + +Wolf now made no further objection to his entry, seeing that Verty +accompanied him; and the two persons went into the house. + +"_Ma mere's_ away somewhere," said Verty; "but we can broil some +venison. Wait here: I'll go and get it." + +The boy, humming one of the old border songs, opened a door in the +rear of the lodge, and passed into a sort of covered shed, which was +used as a store-room by the old woman. + +The door closed behind him. + +The pedlar looked around; the two hounds were lazily pawing each other +in the sun, before the door, and no sound disturbed the silence, but +their low whining, as they yawned, or the faint cry of some distant +bird. + +The pedlar muttered a cautious "goot!" and looked warily around him. +Nothing worth stealing was visible, at least nothing small enough to +carry away. + +His prying eye, however, detected an old chest in the corner, half +covered with deer and other skins, and the key of this chest was in +the lock. + +The pedlar rose cautiously, and listened. + +The young man was evidently preparing the venison steaks from the +noise he made, an occupation which he accompanied with the low, Indian +humming. + +The pedlar went on the points of his toes to the chest, carefully +turned the key, and opened it. With a quick hand he turned over its +contents, looking round cautiously. + +After some search, he drew forth a silver spoon, and what seemed to be +a necklace of red beads, the two ends of which were brought together +by a circular gold plate. Just as the pedlar thrust these objects into +his capacious breast-pocket, the door opened, and Verty entered. + +But the boy did not observe him--he quickly and cautiously closed the +chest, and began examining one of the skins on the lid. + +Verty looked up from the steaks in his hand, observed the occupation +of the pedlar, and began to laugh, and talk of his hunting. + +The pedlar drew a long breath, returned to his pack, and sat down. + +As he did so, the old Indian woman came in, and the boy ran to her, +and kissed her hand, and placed it on his head. This was Indian +fashion. + +"Oh, _ma mere_!" he cried, "I've seen Redbud, and had such a fine +time, and I'm so happy! I'm hungry, too; and so is this honest fellow +with the pack. There go the steaks!" + +And Verty threw them on the gridiron, and burst out laughing. + +In a quarter of an hour they were placed on the rude table, and the +three persons sat down--Verty laughing, the old woman smiling at him, +the pedlar sullen and omnivorous. + +After devouring everything on the table, the worthy took his departure +with his pack upon his shoulders. + +"I don't like that man, but let him go," said Verty. "Now, _ma mere_, +I'm going out to hunt a bit for you." + +The old woman gazed fondly on him, and this was all Verty needed. He +rose, called the dogs, and loaded his gun. + +"Good-bye, _ma mere_" he said, going out; "don't let any more of these +pedlar people come here. I feel as if that one who has just gone away, +had done me some harm. Come, Longears! come, Wolf!" + +And Verty took his way through the forest, still humming his low, +Indian song. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MR. ROUNDJACKET MAKES HIMSELF AGREEABLE. + + +On the morning after the scenes which we have just related, Mr. +Roundjacket was seated on his tall three-legged stool, holding in +his left hand the MS. of his poem, and brandishing in his right the +favorite instrument of his eloquence, when, chancing to raise his +eyes, he saw through the window an approaching carriage, which +carriage had evidently conceived the design of drawing up at the door +of Mr. Rushton's office. + +A single glance showed Mr. Roundjacket that this carriage contained a +lady; a second look told him that the lady was Miss Lavinia. + +We might very rationally suppose that the great poet, absorbed in +the delights of poesy, and thus dead to the outer world, would have +continued his recitation, and permitted such real, sublunary things as +visitors to pass unheeded. But such a conclusion would not indicate a +very profound acquaintance with the character of Mr. Roundjacket--the +most chivalric and gallant of cavaliers. + +Instead of going on with his poem, he hastily rolled up the +manuscript, thrust it into his desk, and hastening to a small cracked +mirror, which hung over the fire-place, there commenced arranging his +somewhat disordered locks and apparel, with scrupulous care. + +As he finished this hasty toilette, the Apple Orchard carriage drew up +and stopped at the door, and Mr. Roundjacket rushed forth. + +Then any body who would have taken the trouble to look, might have +seen a gentleman opening the door of a chariot with profuse bows, +and smiles, and graceful contortions; and then a lady accepting the +proffered hand with solemn courtesy; and then Mr. Roundjacket might +have been observed leading the lady elegantly into the office. + +"A delightful morning--a _very_ delightful morning, madam," said Mr. +Roundjacket. + +"Yes, sir," said Miss Lavinia, solemnly. + +"And you look in the best of health and spirits, madam." + +"Thank you, sir; I feel very well, and I am glad to think that you are +equally blest." + +"Blest!" said Mr. Roundjacket; "since you came, madam, that may be +very truly said." + +A ghost of a smile lit, so to speak, upon Miss Lavinia's face, and +then flew away. It was very plain that this inveterate man-hater had +not closed her ears entirely to the voice of her enemy. + +Roundjacket saw the impression he had made, and followed it up by +gazing with admiring delight upon his visitor;--whose countenance, as +soon as the solemnity was forgotten, did not by any means repel. + +"It is a very great happiness," said the cavalier, seating himself +on his stool, and, from habit, brandishing his ruler around Miss +Lavinia's head,--"it is a great happiness, madam, when we poor +professional slaves have the pleasure to see one of the divine +sex--one of the ladies of creation, if I may use the phrase. Lawbooks +and papers are--ahem!--very--yes, exceedingly--" + +"Dull?" suggested the lady, fanning herself with a measured movement +of the hand. + +"Oh! worse, worse! These objects, madam, extinguish all poetry, and +gallantry, and elevated feeling in our unhappy breasts." + +"Indeed?" + +"Yes, my dear madam, and after a while we become so dead to all +that is beautiful and charming in existence"--that was from Mr. +Roundjacket's poem--"that we are incapable even of appreciating the +delightful society of the fairest and most exquisite of the opposite +sex." + +Miss Lavinia shook her head with a ghostly smile. + +"I'm afraid you are very gallant, Mr. Roundjacket." + +"I, madam? no, no; I am the coldest and most prosaic of men." + +"But your poem?" + +"You have heard of that?" + +"Yes, indeed, sir." + +"Well, madam, that is but another proof of the fact which I assert." + +"How, indeed?" + +"It is on the prosaic and repulsive subject of the Certiorari." + +And Mr. Roundjacket smiled after such a fashion, that it was +not difficult to perceive the small amount of sincerity in this +declaration. + +Miss Lavinia looked puzzled, and fanned herself more solemnly than +ever. + +"The Certiorari, did you say, sir?" she asked. + +"Yes, madam--one of our legal proceedings; and if you are really +curious, I will read a portion of my unworthy poem to you--ahem!--" + +As Mr. Roundjacket spoke, an overturned chair in the adjoining room +indicated that the occupant of the apartment had been disturbed by the +noise, and was about to oppose the invasion of his rights. + +Roundjacket no sooner heard this, than he restored the poem to his +desk, with a sigh, and said: + +"But you, no doubt, came on business, madam--I delay you--Mr. +Rushton--" + +At the same moment the door of Mr. Rushton's room opened, and that +gentleman made his appearance, shaggy and irate--a frown upon his +brow, and a man-eating expression on his compressed lips. + +The sight of Miss Lavinia slightly removed the wrathful expression, +and Mr. Rushton contented himself with bestowing a dreadful scowl on +Roundjacket, which that gentleman returned, and then counteracted by +an amiable smile. + +Miss Lavinia greeted the lawyer with grave dignity, and said she had +come in, in passing, to consult him about some little matters which +she wished him to arrange for her; and trusted that she found him +disengaged. + +This was said with so much dignity, that Mr. Rushton could not scowl, +and so he invited Miss Lavinia to enter his sanctum, politely leading +the way. + +The lady sailed after him--and the door closed. + +No sooner had she disappeared, than Mr. Roundjacket seized his +ruler, for a moment abandoned, and proceeded to execute innumerable +flourishes toward the adjoining room, for what precise purpose does +not very accurately appear. In the middle of this ceremony, however, +and just as his reflections were about to shape themselves into words, +the front door opened, and Verty made his appearance, joyful and +smiling. + +In his hand Verty carried his old battered violin; at his heels +stalked the grave and dignified Longears. + +"Good morning, Mr. Roundjacket," said Verty, smiling; "how do you do +to-day?" + +"Moderate, moderate, young man," said the gentleman addressed; "you +seem, however, to be at the summit of human felicity." + +"_Anan_?" + +"Don't you know what _felicity_ means, you young savage?" + +"No, sir." + +"It means bliss." + +Verty laughed. + +"What is that?" he said. + +Mr. Roundjacket flourished his ruler, indignantly. + +"Astonishing how dull you are occasionally for such a bright fellow," +he said; "but, after the fashion of all ignoramuses, and as you don't +know what that is, I declare you to be one after the old fashion. You +need illustration. Now, listen." + +Verty sat down tuning his violin, and looking at Mr. Roundjacket, with +a smile. + +"Felicity and bliss are things which spring from poetry and women; +convertible terms, you savage, but often dissevered. Suppose, now, you +wrote a great poem, and read it to the lady of your affections, and +she said it was better than the Iliad of Homer,--how would you feel, +sir?" + +"I don't know," Verty said. + +"You would feel happiness, sir." + +"I don't think I would understand her. Who was Iliad, and what was +Homer?" + +Mr. Roundjacket flourished his ruler, despairingly. + +"You'll never write a poem, and you'll never be in love!" he said, +with solemn emphasis. + +"Oh, you are wrong!" said Verty, laying his violin on the desk, and +caressing Longears. "I think I'm in love now, Mr. Roundjacket!" + +"What?" + +"I'm in love." + +"With whom?" + +"Redbud," said Verty. + +Roundjacket looked at the young man. + +"Redbud Summers?" he said. + +Verty nodded. + +Roundjacket's face was suddenly illuminated with a smile; and he +looked more intently still at Verty. + +"Tell me all about it," he said, with the interest of a lover himself; +"have you had any moonlight, any flowers, music, and that sort of +things?" + +"Oh, yes! we had the flowers!" said Verty. + +"Where?" + +"At old Scowley's." + +"Who's he?" asked Mr. Roundjacket, staring. + +"What!" cried Verty, "don't you know old Scowley?" + +"No." + +"She's Redbud's school-master--I mean school-mistress, of course; and +Mr. Jinks goes to see Miss Sallianna." + +Roundjacket muttered: "Really, a very extraordinary young man." + +Then he added, aloud-- + +"Why do you think you are in love with Redbud?" + +"Because you told me all about it; and I think from what--" + +Just as Verty was going on to explain, the door of Mr. Rushton's room +opened again, and Miss Lavinia came forth. + +She nodded to Verty, and asked him how he was. + +"I'm very well," said the young man, "and I hope you are too, Miss +Lavinia. I saw your carriage at the door, and knew you were in here. +Oh! how tight your hair is curled!" he added, laughing. + +Miss Lavinia drew herself up. + +"I reckon you are going to see Redbud," said Verty. + +Miss Lavinia looked intently at him. + +"Yes," she said. + +"Give my love to her," said the young man, "and tell her I'm coming to +see her very soon--just as quick as I can get off from this dull old +place." + +Which words were accompanied by a smile, directed toward Roundjacket. +As to Miss Lavinia, she stood aghast at Verty's extraordinary +communication, and for some moments could not get words to express her +feelings. + +Finally she said, solemnly-- + +"How--have you been--" + +"To see Redbud, ma'am?" + +"Yes." + +"I've been once," Verty said, "and I'm going again." + +Miss Lavinia's face assumed a dignified expression of reproof, and she +gazed at the young man in silence. This look, however, was far from +daunting him, and he returned it with the most fascinating smile. + +"The fact is, Miss Lavinia," he added, "Redbud wants somebody to talk +to up there. Old Scowley, you know, is'nt agreeable, at least, I +should'nt think she was; and Miss Sallianna is all the time, I reckon, +with Mr. Jinks. I did'nt see any scholars with Redbud; but there ARE +some there, because you know Redbud's pigeon had a paper round his +neck, with some words on it, all about how 'Fanny' had given him to +her; and so there's a 'Fanny' somewhere--don't you think so? But I +forgot, you don't know about the pigeon--do you?" + +Miss Lavinia was completely astounded. "Old Scowley," "Mr. Jinks," +"pigeon," "paper round his neck," and "Fanny,"--all these objects +were inextricably mingled in her unfortunate brain, and she could not +disentangle them from each other, or discover the least clue to the +labyrinth. She, therefore, gazed at Verty with more overwhelming +dignity than ever, and not deigning to make any reply to his rhapsody, +sailed by with a stiff inclination of the head, toward the door. But +Verty was growing gallant under Mr. Roundjacket's teaching. He +rose with great good humor, and accompanied Miss Lavinia to her +carriage--he upon one side, the gallant head clerk on the other--and +politely assisted the lady into her chariot, all the time smiling in a +manner which was pleasant to behold. + +His last words, as the door closed and the chariot drove off, were-- + +"Recollect, Miss Lavinia, please don't forget to give my love to +Redbud!" + +Having impressed this important point upon Miss Lavinia, Verty +returned to the office, with the sighing Roundjacket, humming one of +his old Indian airs, and caressing Longears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +MR. JINKS AT HOME. + + +The young man sat down at his desk, and began to write. But this +occupation did not seem to amuse him, and, in a few moments, he threw +away the pen he was writing with, and demanded another from Mr. +Roundjacket. + +That gentleman complied, and made him a new one. + +Verty wrote for five minutes with the new one; and then split it +deplorably. Mr. Roundjacket heard the noise, and protested against +such carelessness. + +"Oh," sighed Verty, "this writing is a terrible thing to-day; I want a +holiday." + +"There's no holiday in law, sir." + +"Never?" + +"No, never." + +"It's a very slavish thing, then," Verty said. + +"You are not far wrong there, young man," replied his companion; "but +it also has its delights." + +"I have never seen any." + +"You are a savage." + +"I believe I am." + +"Your character is like your costume--barbarous." + +"Yes--Indian," said Verty; "but I just thought, Mr. Roundjacket, of my +new suit. To-day was to be the time for getting it." + +"Very true," said the clerk, laying down his pen, "and as everything +is best done in order, we will go at once." + +Roundjacket opened Mr. Rushton's door, and informed him where he was +going, and for what purpose--a piece of information which was received +with a growl, and various muttered ejaculations. + +Verty had already put on his fur hat. + +"The fact is," said Roundjacket, as they issued forth into the street +of the town, followed by Longears, "the old fellow, yonder, is getting +dreadfully bearish." + +"Is he, sir?" + +"Yes; and every year it increases." + +"I like him, though." + +"You are right, young man--a noble-hearted man is Rushton; but +unfortunate, sir,--unfortunate." + +And Mr. Roundjacket shook his head. + +"How?" + +"That's his secret--not mine," was the reserved reply. + +"Well, I won't ask it, then," Verty said; "I never care to know +anything--there's the tailor's, aint it?" + +"Yes, that is the shop of the knight of the shears," replied the +clerk, with elegant paraphrase; "come, let us get on." + +They soon reached the tailor's, which was not far from the office, on +the same street; and Mr. O'Brallaghan came forward, scissors in hand, +and smiling, like a great ogre, who was going to snip off people's +heads, and eat them for his breakfast--only to satisfy his hunger, not +from any malevolent feeling toward them. Mr. O'Brallaghan, as his name +intimated, was from the Emerald Isle--was six feet high--had a carotty +head, an enormous grinning mouth, and talked with the national accent. +Indeed, so marked was this accent, that, after mature consideration, +we have determined not to report any of this gentleman's +remarks--naturally distrustful as we are of our ability to represent +the tone in which they were uttered, with any degree of accuracy. We +shall not see him frequently, however, and may omit his observations +without much impropriety. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan surveyed Verty's lythe and well-knit figure, clad in +its rude forest costume, with patronizing favor. But when Roundjacket +informed him, with hauteur, that "his friend, Mr. Verty," would give +him an order for three suits:--one plain, one handsome, one very +rich--the great O'Brallaghan became supple and polite; and evidently +regarded Mr. Verty as some young lord, in disguise. + +He requested the young man to walk into the inner room, where his +artist would take his measure; and this Verty did at once. + +Imagine his surprise at finding himself in the presence of--Mr. Jinks! + +Mr. Jinks, no longer clad in elegant and martial costume, redolent +equally of the ball-room and the battle-field--no longer moving +majestically onward with wide-stretched legs, against which his +warlike sword made dreadful music--no longer decorated with rosettes, +and ruffles, and embroidery; but seated on the counter, in an old +dressing-gown, with slipper'd feet and lacklustre eyes, driving his +rapid needle through the cloth with savage and intrepid spirit. + +Verty did not recognize him immediately; and Mr. Jinks did not observe +the new comers either. + +An exclamation from the young man, however, attracted his attention, +and he started up. + +"Mr. O'Brallaghan!" cried the knight of the needle, if we may so far +plagiarize upon Roundjacket's paraphrase--"Mr. O'Brallaghan! this is +contrary to our contract, sir. It was understood, sir, that I should +be private, sir,--and I am invaded here by a route of people, sir, in +violation of that understanding, sir!" + +The emphasis with which Mr. Jinks uttered the various "sirs," in this +address, was terrible. O'Brallaghan was evidently daunted by them. + +"You know I am a great artist in the cutting line, sir," said Mr. +Jinks, with dignity; "and that nobody can do your fine work but me, +sir. You know I have the right to mature my conceptions in private, +sir,--and that circumstances of another description render this +privacy desirable, sir! And yet, sir, you intrude upon me, sir,--you +intrude! How do you do, young man?--I recognize you," added Mr. Jinks, +slightly calmed by his victory over O'Brallaghan, who only muttered +his sentiments in original Gaelic, and bore the storm without further +reply. + +"I will, for once, break my rule," said Mr. Jinks, magnanimously, "and +do for this gentleman, who is my friend, what I will do for no other. +Henceforth, sir, recollect that I have rights;" and Mr. Jinks frowned; +then he added to Verty, "Young man, have the goodness to stand upon +that bench." + +O'Brallaghan and Roundjacket retreated to the outer room, where they +were, soon after, joined by Verty, who was laughing. + +"Well," muttered the young man, "I will not tell anybody that +Mr. Jinks sews, if he don't want it to be known--especially Miss +Sallianna. I reckon he is right--women don't like to see men do +anything better than them, as Mr. Jinks says." + +And Verty began to admire a plum-colored coat which was lying on the +counter. + +"I like this," he said. + +O'Brallaghan grew eloquent on the plum-colored coat--asserting that it +was a portion of a suit made for one of his most elegant customers, +but not sent for. He could, however, dispose of it to Mr. Verty, if he +wished to have it--there was time to make another for the aforesaid +elegant customer. + +Verty tried the coat on, and O'Brallaghan declared, enthusiastically, +that it fitted him "bewchously." + +Mr. Roundjacket informed Verty that it would be better to get the +suit, if it fitted, inasmuch as O'Brallaghan would probably take +double the time he promised to make his proper suit in--an observation +which O'Brallaghan repelled with indignation; and so the consequence +was, that a quarter of an hour afterwards Roundjacket and Verty issued +forth--the appearance of the latter having undergone a remarkable +change. + +Certainly no one would have recognized Verty at the first glance. He +was clad in a complete cavalier's suit--embroidered coat-ruffles and +long flapped waistcoat--with knee-breeches, stockings of the same +material, and glossy shoes with high red heels, and fluttering +rosettes; a cocked hat surmounted his curling hair, and altogether +Verty resembled a courtier, and walked like a boy on stilts. + +Roundjacket laughed in his sleeve at his companion's contortions, +and on their way back stopped at the barber and surgeon's. This +professional gentleman clipped Verty's profuse curls, gathered them +together carefully behind, and tied them with a handsome bow of +scarlet ribbon. Then he powdered the boy's fine glossy hair, and held +a mirror before him. + +"Oh! I'm a great deal better looking now," said Verty; "the fact is, +Mr. Roundjacket, my hair was too long." + +To this Mr. Roundjacket assented, and they returned, laughing, to the +office. + +Verty looked over his shoulder, and admired himself with all the +innocence of a child or a savage. One thing only was disagreeable to +him--the high heels which Mr. O'Brallaghan had supplied him with. +Accustomed to his moccasins, the heels were not to be endured; and +Verty kicked both of them off against the stone steps with great +composure. Having accomplished this feat, he re-entered. + +"I'm easier now," he said. + +"About what?" + +"The heels." + +Mr. Roundjacket looked down. + +"I could'nt walk on 'em, and knocked 'em off," Verty said. + +Mr. Roundjacket uttered a suppressed chuckle; then stopping suddenly, +observed with dignity:-- + +"Young man, that was very wrong in you. Mr. Rushton has made you a +present of that costume, and you should not injure it; he will be +displeased, sir." + +"I will be nothing of the sort," said a growling voice; and turning +round, the clerk found himself opposite to Mr. Rushton, who was +looking at Verty with a grim smile. + +"Kick away just as you please, my young savage," said that gentleman, +"and don't mind this stuff from Roundjacket, who don't know civilized +from Indian character. Do just as you choose." + +"May I?" said Verty. + +"Am I to repeat everything?" + +"Well, sir, I choose to have a holiday this morning." + +"Hum!" + +"You said I might do as I wanted to, and I want to go and take a +ride." + +"Well, go then--much of a lawyer you'll ever make." + +Verty laughed, and turning towards Longears, called him. But Longears +hesitated--looking with the most profound astonishment at his master. + +"He don't know me!" said the young man, laughing; "I don't think he'll +hunt if I wear these, sir." + +But Mr. Rushton had retired, and Verty only heard a door slam. + +He rose. + +"I'm going to see Redbud, Mr. Roundjacket," he said, "and I think +she'll like my dress--good-bye." + +Roundjacket only replied by flourishing his ruler. + +Verty put on his cocked hat, admired himself for an instant in the +mirror over the fire-place, and went out humming his eternal Indian +song. Five minutes afterwards he was on his way to see Redbud, +followed dubiously by Longears, who evidently had not made up his mind +on the subject of his master's identity. + +In order to explain the reception which Verty met with, it will be +necessary to precede him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +HOW MISS LAVINIA DEVELOPED HER THEORIES UPON MATRIMONY. + + +The Apple Orchard carriage, containing the solemn Miss Lavinia, very +soon arrived at the abode of old Scowley, as our friend Verty was +accustomed to call the respectable preceptress of Miss Redbud; and +Miss Lavinia descended and entered with solemn dignity. + +Miss Sallianna and herself exchanged elaborate curtseys, and Miss +Lavinia sailed into the pleasant sylvan parlor and took her seat +reverely. + +"Our dear little girls are amusing themselves this morning," said +Miss Sallianna, inclining her head upon one shoulder, and raising her +smiling eyes toward the ceiling; "the youthful mind, my dear madam, +requires relaxation, and we do not force it." + +Miss Lavinia uttered a dignified "hem," and passed her handkerchief +solemnly over her lips. + +"In this abode of the graces and rural sublunaries," continued Miss +Sallianna, gently flirting her fan, "our young friends seem to lead a +very happy life." + +"Yes--I suppose so." + +"Indeed, madam, I may say the time passes for them in a golden cadence +of salubrious delights," said Miss Sallianna. + +Her visitor inclined her head. + +"If we could only exclude completely all thoughts of the opposite +sex--" + +Miss Lavinia listened with some interest to this peroration. "If we +could live far from the vain world of man--" + +The solemn head indicated a coincidence of opinion. + +"If we could but dedicate ourselves wholly to the care of our little +flock, we should be felicitous," continued Miss Sallianna. "But, alas! +they will come to see us, madam, and we cannot exclude the dangerous +enemy. I am often obliged to send word that I am not 'at home' to the +beaux, and yet that is very cruel. But duty is my guide, and I bow to +its bequests." + +With which words, Miss Sallianna fixed her eyes resignedly upon +the ceiling, and was silent. If Miss Lavinia had labored under the +impression that Miss Sallianna designed to utter any complaints about +Redbud, she did not show that such had been her expectation. She +only bowed and said, politely, that if her little cousin Redbud was +disengaged, she should like to see her. + +"Oh yes! she is disengaged," said Miss Sallianna, with a languishing +smile; "the dear child has been roaming over the garden and around the +ensuing hills since the first appearance of the radiant orb of Sol, +madam. I think such perambulations healthy." + +Miss Lavinia said that she agreed with her. + +"Reddy, as I call your lovely little niece--your cousin, eh?--is one +of my most cherished pupils, madam; and I discover in her so many +charming criterions of excellence, that I am sure she will grow up an +object of interest to everybody. There she is out on the lawn. I will +call her, madam, and if you would dispense with my society for a short +time, I will again return, and we will discuss my favorite subject, +the beauties of nature." + +Miss Lavinia having, by a solemn movement of the head, indicated her +willingness to languish without her hostess' society for a short +period, Miss Sallianna rose, and made her exit from the apartment, +with upraised eyes and gently smiling lips. + +Five minutes afterwards Redbud ran in, laughing and rosy-cheeked. + +"Oh, cousin Lavinia!" she cried, "I'm so glad to see you!" + +Miss Lavinia enclosed her young relation in a dignified embrace, and +kissed her solemnly. + +"I am very glad to see you looking so well, Redbud," she said, +indicating a cricket at her feet, upon which Miss Redbud accordingly +seated herself. I have not been able before to come and see you, but +Miss Scowley gives me excellent accounts of you." + +"Does she!" laughed Redbud. + +"Yes." + +Redbud laughed again. + +"What is the cause of your amusement?" said Miss Lavinia. + +"Oh, I only meant that she told everybody who came, that everybody was +good." + +"Hum!" + +"She does," said Redbud. + +"Then you mean that you do not deserve her praise?" + +"Oh, I did'nt mean that, cousin Lavinia! I'm very glad she likes me. I +want everybody to like me. But it's true." + +"I believe you are good, Redbud," Miss Lavinia said, calmly. + +"I hope so, ma'am." + +"Are you happy here?" + +"Oh yes, ma'am--except that I would like to be at home to see you +all." + +"Do you miss us?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" + +Miss Lavinia cleared her throat, and began to revolve her address to +be delivered. + +"You do not see us very often, Redbud," she said,--"I mean myself and +your father--but from what I have heard this morning, that young man +Verty still visits you." + +Redbud colored, and did not reply. + +Miss Lavinia's face assumed an expression of mingled severity and +dignity, and she said to the girl: + +"Redbud, I am sorry you do not observe the advice I gave you,--of +course, I have no right to command you, and you are now growing old +enough to act for yourself in these things. You are nearly seventeen, +and are growing to be a woman. But I fear you are deficient in +resolution, and still encourage the visits of this young man." + +Poor Redbud was silent--she could not deny the accusation. + +Miss Lavinia looked at her with grim affection, and said: + +"I hope, Redbud, that, in future, you will be more careful. I am sorry +to be compelled to say it--but Verty is not a proper person for you +to remain upon such intimate and confidential terms with. He has good +qualities, and is very sensible and kind-hearted; but he is a mere +Indian, and cannot have anything in common with one so much his +superior in station, as yourself." + +"Oh, ma'am--!" began Redbud. + +"Speak plainly," said Miss Lavinia; "do not be afraid." + +"I was only going to say that I am not superior to Verty," Redbud +added, with tears in her eyes; "he is so good, and kind, and sincere." + +"You misunderstand me--I did not mean that he was not a proper +companion for you, as far as his character went; for, I say again, +that his character is perfectly good. But--child that you are!--you +cannot comprehend yet that something more is wanting--that Verty is an +Indian, and of unknown parentage." + +Poor Redbud struggled to follow Miss Lavinia's meaning. + +"I see that I must speak plainly," said that lady, solemnly, "and I +will commence by saying, Redbud, that the whole male sex are always +engaged in endeavoring to make an impression on the hearts of the +other sex. The object to which every young man, without exception, +dedicates his life, is to gain the ascendancy over the heart of some +young person of the opposite sex; and they well know that when this +ascendancy is gained, breaking it is often more than human power can +accomplish. Young girls should carefully avoid all this, and should +always remember that the intimacies formed in early life, last, +generally, throughout their whole existence." + +Redbud looked down, and felt a strong disposition to wipe her eyes. + +Miss Lavinia proceeded, like an ancient oracle, impassible and +infallible. + +"Now, I mean, Redbud," she said, "that while Verty may be, and no +doubt is, all that you could wish in a friend, you still ought not to +encourage him, and continue your injudicious friendship. Far be it +from me to insist upon the necessity of classes in the community, and +the impropriety of marrying those who are uncongenial in taste and +habit, and--" + +"Marrying, ma'am!" exclaimed Redbud--then she stopped. + +"Yes, Redbud," said Miss Lavinia, with dignity, "and nothing will +persuade me that this young man has not conceived the design of +marrying you. I do not say, mind me, that he is actuated by unworthy +motives--I have no right to. I do not believe that this young man has +ever reflected that Apple Orchard, a very fine estate, will some day +be yours. I only say that, like all youths, he has set his heart upon +possessing your hand, and that he is not a proper husband for you." + +Having uttered this downright and unmistakeable opinion, Miss Lavinia +raised her head with dignity, and smoothed down her silk dress with +solemn grace. + +As to poor Redbud, she could only lean her head on her hand, and +endeavor to suppress her gathering tears. + +"Verty is an Indian, and a young man of obscure birth--wholly +uneducated, and, generally speaking, a savage, though a harmless one," +said the lady, returning to the charge. "Now, Redbud, you cannot fail +to perceive that it is impossible for you to marry an Indian whom +nobody knows anything about. Your family have claims upon you, and +these you cannot disregard, and unite yourself to one of an inferior +race, who--" + +"Oh, cousin Lavinia! cousin Lavinia!" cried Redbud, with a gush of +tears, "please don't talk to me anymore about this; you make me feel +so badly! Verty never said a word to me about marrying, and it would +be foolish. Marry! Oh! you know I am nothing but a child, and you make +me very unhappy by talking so." + +Redbud leaned her forehead on her hand, and wiped away the tears +running down her cheeks. + +"It is not agreeable to me to mention this subject," Miss Lavinia +said, solemnly, smoothing Redbud's disordered hair, "but I consider it +my duty, child. You have said truly that you are still very young, and +that it is ridiculous to talk about your being married. But, Redbud, +the day will come when you will be a woman, and then you will find +this intimacy with Verty a stone around your neck. I wish to warn you +in time. These early friendships are only productive of suffering, +when in course of time they must be dissolved. I wish to ward off this +suffering from you!" + +"Oh, ma'am!" sobbed Redbud. + +"I love you very much." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"And as I have more experience than you," said Miss Lavinia, +grimly--"more knowledge of the wiles of men, I consider it my duty to +direct your conduct." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud, seeing the wall closing round her +inexorably. + +"If, then, you would spare Verty suffering, as well as yourself, you +will gradually place your relations on a different basis." + +"On--a--dif--ferent--basis," said Redbud; "Yes, ma'am." + +"It may be done," said Miss Lavinia; "and do not understand me, child, +to counsel an abrupt and violent breaking off of all the ties between +yourself and this young man." + +"No, ma'am." + +"You may do it gradually; make your demeanor toward him calmer at +every interview--if he must come--do not have so many confidential +conversations--never call him 'Verty'"-- + +"Oh, ma'am!" said Redbud, "but I can't call him Mr. Verty." + +"Don't call him anything," said the astute enemy of the male sex, "and +gradually add 'sir' to the end of your observations. In this manner, +Redbud, you may place your relations on an entirely different +footing." + +"Yes, ma'am!" + +Miss Lavinia looked at the child for some moments with a singular +expression of commiseration. Then smoothing the small head again, she +said more softly:-- + +"What I advise is for your own good, Redbud. I only aim at your +happiness. Pursue the plan I have indicated, and whenever you can, +avoid this young man--as you will both suffer. Men, men," murmured +Miss Lavinia, "they are our masters, and ask nothing better than that +delightful tribute to their power--a broken heart." + +"Yes, yes, Redbud," said the solemn lady, rising, "this advice I have +given you is well worthy of your attention. Both you and this young +man will undergo cruel suffering if you persist in your present +relations. I will say no more. I have done my duty, and I am sure you +will not think that I am actuated by old-maidish scruples, and have +made a bugbear for myself. I love you, Redbud, as well as I love any +one in the world, and all I have said is for your good. Now I must +go." + +And Miss Lavinia solemnly enclosed the weeping girl in her arms, and +returned to her carriage. Before her sailed Miss Sallianna, smiling +and languishing--her eyes upon the sky, and uttering the most +elegant compliments. These were received by Miss Lavinia with grave +politeness; and finally the two ladies inclined their heads to each +other, and the carriage drove off toward Winchester, followed by +Redbud's eye. That young lady was standing at the window, refusing to +be comforted by her friend Fanny--who had given her the pigeon, it +will be remembered--and obstinately bent on proving to herself that +she was the most wretched young lady who had ever existed. + +Meanwhile Miss Lavinia continued her way, gazing in a dignified +attitude from the window of her carriage. Just as she reached the +bottom of the hill, what was her horror to perceive a cavalier +approach from the opposite direction--an elegant cavalier, mounted on +a shaggy horse, and followed by a long-eared hound--in whose richly +clad person she recognized the whilom forest boy. + +Miss Lavinia held up both her hands, and uttered an exclamation of +horror. + +As to Verty, he passed rapidly, with a fascinating smile, saying, as +he disappeared:-- + +"I hope you gave my love to Redbud, Miss Lavinia!" + +Miss Lavinia could only gasp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ONLY A FEW TEARS. + + +The theories of Miss Lavinia upon life and matrimony had so much truth +in them, in spite of the address and peculiarities of the opinions +upon which they were based, that Redbud was compelled to acknowledge +their justness; and, as a consequence of this acknowledgment, to shape +her future demeanor toward the young man in conformity with the advice +of her mentor. + +Therefore, when Miss Redbud saw Verty approach, clad in his new +costume, and radiant with happy expectation, she hastily left the +window at which she had been standing, and, in the depths of her +chamber, sought for strength and consolation. + +Let no one deride the innocent prayer of the child, and say that it +was folly, and unworthy of her. The woes of youth are not our woes, +and the iron mace which strikes down the stalwart man, falls not more +heavily upon his strong shoulders, than does the straw which bears to +the earth the weak heart of childhood. + +Then, when the man frowns, and clenches his hand against the hostile +fate pressing upon him, the child only weeps, and endeavors to avoid +the suffering. + +Redbud suffered no little. She loved Verty very sincerely as the +playmate of her earlier years, and the confidential friend of her +happiest hours. The feeling which was ripening in her heart had not +yet revealed itself, and she felt that the barrier now raised between +herself and the young man was cruel. But, then, suddenly, she would +recollect Miss Lavinia's words, recall that warning, that they +both would suffer--and so poor Redbud was very unhappy--very much +confused--not at all like herself. + +We have said very little of this child's character, preferring rather +to let the current of our narrative reflect her pure features from +its surface, as it flowed on through those old border days which were +illustrated and adorned by the soft music of her voice, the kindness +of her smile. Perhaps, however, this is a favorable occasion to lay +before the reader what was written by a poor pen, in after years, +about the child, by one who had loved, and been rendered purer by +her. Some one, no matter who, had said to him one day--"Tell me about +little Redbud, whom you praise so much"--and he had taken his pen and +written-- + +"How can I? There are some figures that cannot be painted, as there +are some melodies which cannot be uttered by the softest wind which +ever swept the harp of Aeolus. You can scarcely delineate a star, and +the glories of the sunset die away, and live not upon canvas. How +difficult, then, the task you have imposed upon me, _amigo mio_--to +seal up in a wicker flask that moonlight; chain down, by words, that +flitting and almost imperceptible perfume--to tell you anything about +that music which, embodied in a material form, was known as Redbud! + +"Observe how I linger on the threshold, and strive to evade what I +have promised to perform. What can I say of the little friend who made +so many of my hours pure sunshine? She was the most graceful creature +I have ever seen, I think, and surely merrier lips and eyes were never +seen--eyes very blue and soft--hair golden, and flowing like sunset on +her shoulders--a mouth which had a charming archness in it--and withal +an innocence and modesty which made one purer. These were the first +traits of the child, she was scarcely more, which struck a stranger. +But she grew in beauty as you conversed with her. She had the most +delightful voice I have ever heard--the kindest and most tender smile; +and one could not long be in her company without feeling that good +fortune had at last thrown him with one of those pure beings which +seem to be sent down to the earth, from time to time, to show us, poor +work-a-day mortals, that there are scales of existence, links as it +were, between the inhabitants of this world and the angels: for the +heavenly goodness, which sent into the circle which I lived in such +a pure ray of the dawn, to verify and illumine the pathway of my +life--thanks--thanks! + +"How beautiful and graceful she was! When she ran along, singing, her +fair golden locks rippling back from her pure brow and rosy cheeks, +I thought a sunbeam came and went with her. The secret of Redbud's +universal popularity--for everybody loved her--was, undoubtedly, +that love which she felt for every one around her. There was so +much tenderness and kindness in her heart, that it shone in her +countenance, and spoke plainly in her eyes. Upon the lips, what a +guileless innocence and softness!--in the kind, frank eyes, what +all-embracing love for God's creatures everywhere! She would not tread +upon a worm; and I recollect to this day, what an agony of tears she +fell into upon one occasion, when some boys killed the young of an +oriole, and the poor bird sat singing its soul away for grief upon the +poplar. + +"Redbud had a strong vein of piety in her character; and this crowning +grace gave to her an inexpressible charm. Whatever men may say, there +are few who do not reverence, and hope to find in those they love, +this feeling. The world is a hard school, and men must strike alone +everywhere. In the struggle, it is almost impossible to prevent the +mind from gathering those bitter experiences which soil it. It is so +hard not to hate so tremendous a task, to strangle that harsh and +acrid emotion of contempt, which is so apt to subdue us, and make the +mind the hue of what it works in, 'like the dyer's hand.' Men feel the +necessity of something purer than themselves, on which to lean; and +this they find in woman, with the nutriment I have spoken of--the +piety of this child. It did not make her grave, but cheerful; and +nothing could be imagined more delightful, than her smiles and +laughter. Sometimes, it is true, you might perceive upon her brow +what resembled the shadow of a cloud floating over the bright autumn +fields--and in her eyes a thoughtful dew, which made them swim, +veiling their light from you; but this was seldom. As I have spoken of +her, such she was--a bright spirit, who seemed to scatter around her +joy and laughter, gilding all the world she lived in with the kindness +of her smiles. + +"Such, _amigo mio_, was little Redbud when I knew her; and I have +spoken of her as well as I could. No one can be more conscious of the +insufficiency of my outline than myself. My only excuse is, a want of +that faculty of the brain which--uniting memory, that is to say, the +heart, with criticism, which is the intellect--is able to embody with +the lips, or the pen, such figures as have appeared upon the horizon +of life. I can only say that I never went near the child, but I was +made better by her sincere voice. I never took her hand in my own, but +a nameless influence seemed to enter into my heart, and purify it. And +now, _amigo_, I have written it all, and you may laugh at me for my +pains; but that is not a matter of very great importance. Farewell!" + +It is rather an anti-climax, after this somewhat practical account of +our little heroine, to inform the reader that Redbud was sitting down, +crying. Such was, however, the fact; and as conscientious historians +we cannot conceal it. Overwhelmed by Miss Lavinia's fatal logic, she +had no choice, no course but one to pursue--to avoid Verty, and thus +ward off that prospective "suffering;" and so, with a swelling heart +and a heated brain, our little heroine could find no better resource +than tears, and sobs, and sighs. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +HOW MISS FANNY SLAMMED THE DOOR IN VERTY'S FACE. + + +As Redbud sat thus disconsolate, a footstep in the apartment attracted +her attention, and raising her tearful eyes, she saw her friend Fanny, +who had run in, laughing, as was her wont. Fanny was a handsome little +brunette, about Redbud's age, and full of merriment and glee--perhaps +_sparkle_ would be the better word, inasmuch as this young lady always +seemed to be upon the verge of laughter--brim full with it, and ready +to overflow, like a goblet of Bohemian glass filled with the "foaming +draught of eastern France," if we may be permitted to make so unworthy +a comparison. Her merry black eyes were now dancing, and her ebon +curls rippled from her smooth dark brow like midnight waves. + +"Oh! here's your beau, Reddy!" cried Miss Fanny, clapping her hands; +"you pretended not to know him as he came up the hill. Make haste! you +never saw such an elegant cavalier as he has made himself!" + +Redbud only smiled sadly, and turned away her head. + +Miss Fanny attributed this manoeuvre to a feeling very different from +the real one; and clapping her hands more joyfully than ever, cried: + +"There you are! I believe you are going to pretend he ain't your beau! +But you need not, madam. As if I did'nt know all about it--" + +"Oh, Fanny!" murmured poor Redbud. + +"Come! no secrets from me! That old Miss Lavinia has treated you +badly, I know; I don't know how, but she made you cry, and I will not +have anything to say to her, if she _is_ your cousin. Forget all about +it, Reddy, and make haste down, Verty is waiting for you--and oh! he's +so elegant. I never saw a nicer fellow, and you know I always thought +he was handsome. I would set my cap at him," said Miss Fanny, with a +womanly air, "if it was'nt for you." + +Redbud only murmured something. + +"Come on!" cried Fanny, trying to raise her friend forcibly, "I tell +you Verty is waiting, and you are only losing so much talk; they never +_will_ let our beaux stay long enough, and as to-day's holiday, you +will have a nice chat. My cousin Ralph, you know, is coming to see me +to-day, and we can have such a nice walk out on the hill--come on, +Reddy! we'll have such a fine time!" + +Suddenly Miss Fanny caught sight of the tears in Redbud's eyes, and +stopped. + +"What! crying yet at that old Miss Lavinia!" she said; "how can you +mind her so!" + +"Oh! I'm very unhappy!" said poor Redbud, bursting into tears; her +self-control had given away at last. "Don't mind me, Fanny, but I +can't help it--please don't talk any more about Verty, or walking out, +or anything." + +Fanny looked at her friend for a moment, and the deep sadness on +Redbud's face banished all her laughter. + +"Why not talk about him?" she said, sitting down by Redbud. + +"Because I can't see him any more." + +"Can't see him!" + +"No--not to-day." + +"Why?" + +Redbud wiped her eyes. + +"Because--because--oh! I can't tell you, Fanny!--I can't--it's +wrong in cousin Lavinia!--I know it is!--I never meant--oh! I am so +unhappy!" + +And Redbud ended by bursting into a flood of tears, which caused the +impulsive and sympathetic Fanny, whose lips had for some moments been +twitching nervously, to do the same. + +"Don't cry, Fanny--please don't cry!" said Redbud. + +"I'm not crying!" said Miss Fanny, shedding floods of tears--"I'm not +sorry--I'm mad with Miss Lavinia for making _you_ cry; I hate her!" + +"Oh!" sobbed Redbud, "that is very wrong." + +"I don't care." + +"She's my cousin." + +"No matter! She had no business coming here and making you unhappy." + +With which Miss Fanny sniffed, if that very inelegant word may be +applied to any action performed by so elegant a young lady. + +"Yes! she had no business--the old cat!" continued the impulsive +Fanny, "and I feel as if I could scratch her eyes out!--to make you +cry!" + +"But I won't any more," said Redbud, beginning afresh. + +"And I will stop, too," said Fanny, becoming hysterical. + +After which solemn determination to be calm, and not display any +further emotion on any account, the two young ladies, sinking into +each other's arms, cried until their white handkerchiefs were +completely wetted by their tears. + +They had just managed to suppress their emotion somewhat--preparatory +to commencing again, doubtless--when the door of the apartment opened, +and a servant girl announced to Miss Redbud that a gentleman had +come to see her, and was waiting for that purpose at the foot of the +stairs. + +"Oh! I can't see him," said Redbud, threatening a new shower. + +"You shall!" said Fanny, laughing through her tears. + +"Oh, no! no!" said Redbud. + +"What shall I tell 'um, Miss," said the servant? + +"Oh, I can't go down--tell Verty that--" + +"She'll be down in a minute," finished Fanny. + +"No, no, I must not!" + +"You shall!" + +"Fanny--!" + +"Come, no nonsense, Reddy! there! I hear his voice--oh, me! my +goodness gracious!" + +These sudden and apparently remarkable exclamations may probably +appear mysterious and without reason to the respected readers who do +us the honor to peruse our history; but they were in reality not at +all extraordinary under the circumstances, and were, indeed, just what +might have been expected, on the generally accepted theories of cause +and effect. + +In a single word, then, the lively Miss Fanny had uttered the emphatic +words, "Oh, me!--my goodness gracious!" because she had heard upon the +staircase the noise of a masculine footstep, and caught sight of a +masculine cocked-hat ascending;--which phenomenon, arguing again upon +the theories of cause and effect, plainly indicated that a head was +under the chapeau--the head of one of the opposite sex. + +Redbud raised her head quickly at her friend's exclamation, and +discerned the reason therefor. She understood, at a glance, that Verty +had become impatient, waiting in the hall down stairs;--bad heard her +voice from the room above; and, following his wont at Apple Orchard, +quite innocently bethought himself of saving Redbud the trouble of +descending, by ascending to her. + +Verty sent his voice before him--a laughing and jubilant voice, which +asked for Redbud. + +Fanny jumped up and ran to the door, just as the young man placed his +foot upon the landing, and stood before the group. + +Verty made a low bow, and greeted Miss Fanny with one of the most +fascinating smiles which could possibly be imagined. Fanny slammed the +door in his face, without the least hesitation. + +For a moment, Verty stood motionless and bewildered, vainly striving +to make out what this extraordinary occurrence meant. At Apple +Orchard, as we have said, the doors had never been slammed in his +face. On the contrary, he had ranged freely over the mansion, amusing +himself as seemed best to him: taking down a volume here--opening a +closet there--strolling into the Squire's room, or Redbud's room, +where that young lady was studying--and even into the apartment of the +dreadful Miss Lavinia, where sat that solemn lady, engaged in the task +of keeping the household wardrobe, stockings, and what not, in good +condition. No one had ever told Verty that there was the least +impropriety in this proceeding; and now, when he only meant to do what +he had done a thousand times before, he had a door banged in his face, +as if he were a thief with hostile intentions toward the spoons. + +For some moments, therefore, as we have said, the young man stood +thunderstruck and motionless. Then, considering the whole affair a +joke, he began to laugh; and essayed to open the door. + +In vain. Fanny, possibly foreseeing this, had turned the key. + +"Redbud!" said Verty. + +"Sir?" said a voice; not Redbud's, however. + +"Let me in." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," replied the voice. + +"Why?" said Verty, with ready philosophy; "it's nobody but me." + +"Hum!" said the voice again, in indignant protest against the force of +any such reasoning. + +"You are not Redbud," continued the cavalier; "I want to see Redbud." + +"Well, sir,--go down, and Reddy may come and see you," the voice +replied; "as long as you stand there, you will not lay eyes on her--if +you stay a week, or a year." + +At this dreadful threat, Verty retreated from the door. The idea of +not seeing Redbud for a year was horrible. + +"Will you come down, Redbud, if I go?" he asked. + +Voices heard in debate. + +"Say?" said Verty. + +After a pause, the voice which had before spoken, said: + +"Yes; go down and wait ten minutes." + +Verty heaved a sigh, and slowly descended to the hall again. As he +disappeared, the door opened, and the face of Fanny was seen carefully +watching the enemy's retreat. Then the young girl turned to Redbud, +and, clapping her hands, cried: + +"Did you ever!--what an impudent fellow! But you promised, Reddy! +Come, let me fix your hair!" + +Redbud sighed, and assented. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IN WHICH REDBUD SUPPRESSES HER FEELINGS AND BEHAVES WITH DECORUM. + + +In ten minutes, as she promised, Fanny descended with Redbud,--her arm +laced around the slender waist of that young lady, as is the wont +with damsels,--and ready to give battle to our friend Verty, upon any +additional provocation, with even greater zest than before. + +Redbud presented a singular contrast to her companion. Fanny, smiling, +and full of glee, seemed only to have become merrier and brighter +for her "cry"--like an April landscape after a rain. Redbud, on the +contrary, was still sad, and oppressed from the events of the morning; +and, indeed, could scarcely return Verty's greeting without emotion. + +Resplendent in his elegant plum-colored coat--with stockings, long +embroidered waistcoat, and scarlet ribbon tied around his powdered +hair, Verty came forward to meet his innamorata, as joyous and +careless as ever, and, figuratively speaking, with open arms. + +What was his surprise to find that no smile replied to his own. +Redbud's face was calm--almost cold; she repelled him even when he +held out his hand, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, which, +for any warmth or motion in them, might have been wood or marble. + +Poor Verty drew back, and colored. Redbud change toward him!--no +longer care for him! What could this frigid manner with which she +met him, mean;--why this cool and distant bow, in reply to his +enthusiastic greeting? + +Poor Verty sat down disconsolately, gazing at Redbud. He could not +understand. Then his glance questioned Miss Fanny, who sat with a prim +and demure affectation of stateliness, on the opposite side of the +room. There was no explanation here either. + +While Verty was thus gazing silently, and with growing embarrassment, +at the two young girls, Redbud, with a beating heart, and trembling +lips, played with the tassel of the sofa-cushion, and studied the +figure of the carpet. + +Fanny came to the rescue of the expiring conversation, and seizing +forcibly upon the topic of the weather, inserted that useful wedge +into the rapidly closing crack, and waited for Verty to strike the +first blow. + +Unfortunately, Verty did not hear her; he was gazing at Redbud. + +Fanny pouted, and tossed her head. So she was not good enough for the +elegant Mr. Verty!--she was not even worth a reply! He might talk +himself, then! + +Verty did not embrace this tacit permission--he remained silent; and +gazing on Redbud, whose color began slowly to rise, as with heaving +bosom and down-cast eyes she felt the young man's look--he experienced +more and more embarrassment--a sentiment which began to give way to +distress. + +At last he rose, and going to her side, took her hand. + +Redbud slowly drew it away, still without meeting his gaze. + +He asked, in a low voice, if she was angry with him. + +No--she was not very well to-day; that was all. + +And then the long lashes drooped still more with the heavy drops which +weighed them down; the cheeks were covered with a deeper crimson; +the slender frame became still more agitated. Oh! nothing but those +words--"if you would prevent him from suffering"--could bear her +through this trying interview: they were enough, however--she would be +strong. + +And as she came to this determination, Redbud nearly sobbed--the full +cup very nearly ran over with its freight of tears. With a beseeching, +pleading glance, she appealed to Fanny to come to her assistance. + +Such an appeal is never in vain; the free-masonry of the sex has no +unworthy members. Fanny forgot in a moment her "miff" with Verty, when +she saw that for some reason Redbud was very nearly ready to burst +into tears, and wished to have the young man's attention called away +from her; she no longer remembered the slight to herself, which had +made her toss her head, and vow that she would not open her lips +again; she came to the rescue, as women always do, and with the most +winning smile, demanded of Mr. Verty whether he would be so kind as to +do her a slight favor? + +The young man sighed, and moved his head indifferently. Fanny did not +choose to see the expression, and positively beaming with smiles, all +directed, like a sheaf of arrows, full upon the gentleman, pushed the +point of her slipper from the skirt of her dress, and said she would +be exceedingly obliged to Mr. Verty, if he would fasten the ribbon +which had become loose. + +Of course, Verty had to comply. He rose, sighing more than ever, and +crossing the room, knelt down to secure the rebellious ribbon. + +No sooner had he knelt, than Miss Fanny made a movement which +attracted Redbud's attention. Their eyes met, and Fanny saw that her +friend was almost exhausted with emotion. The impulsive girl's eyes +filled as she looked at Redbud; with a smile, however, and with the +rapidity and skill of young ladies at public schools, she spelled +something upon her fingers, grazing as she went through the quick +motions, the head of Verty, who was bending over the slipper. + +Fanny had said, in this sly way: "Say you are sick--indeed you +are!--you'll cry!" + +Verty rose just as she finished, and Miss Fanny, with negligent ease, +thanked him, and looked out of the window. Verty turned again toward +Redbud. She was standing up--one hand resting upon the arm of the +sofa, from which she had risen, the other placed upon her heart, as if +to still its tumultuous beating. + +Verty's troubled glance fled to the tender, sorrowful face, and asked +why she had risen. Redbud, suppressing her emotion by a powerful +effort, said, almost coldly, that she felt unwell, and hoped he would +let her go up stairs. Indeed, (with a trembling voice), she was--not +well: he must excuse her; if--if--if he would--come again. + +And finding her voice failing her, poor Redbud abruptly left the room, +and running to her chamber, threw herself on the bed, and burst into a +passion of tears. + +She had obeyed Miss Lavinia. + +Yes! with a throbbing heart, eyes full of tears, a tenderness toward +her boy-playmate she had never felt before, she had preserved her +calmness. Crying was not wrong she hoped--and that was left her. + +So the child cried, and cried, until nature exhausted herself, and +rested. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +HOW MISS SALLIANNA FELL IN LOVE WITH VERTY. + + +Verty stood for a moment gazing at the door through which Redbud had +disappeared, unable to speak or move. Astonishment, compassion, love, +distress, by turns filled his mind; and standing there, on a fine +October morning, the young man, with the clear sunshine streaming on +him joyfully, took his first lesson in human distress--a knowledge +which all must acquire at some period of their lives, sooner or later. +His mixture of emotions may be easily explained. He was astonished at +the extraordinary change in Redbud's whole demeanor; he felt deep pity +for the sickness which she had pleaded as an excuse for leaving him. +Love and distress clasped hands in his agitated heart, as he threw a +backward glance over the short interview which they had just held--and +all these feelings mingling together, and struggling each for the +mastery, made the young man's bosom heave, his forehead cloud over, +and his lips shake with deep, melancholy sighs. + +Utterly unable to explain the coldness which Redbud had undoubtedly +exhibited, he could only suffer in silence. + +Then, after some moments' thought, the idea occurred to him that Miss +Fanny--the smiling, obliging, the agreeable Miss Fanny--might clear +up the mystery, so he turned round toward her; but as he did so, the +young girl passed by him with stately dignity, and requesting, in a +cold tone, to be excused, as she was going to attend to her friend, +Miss Summers, sailed out of the room and disappeared. + +Verty looked after her with deeper astonishment than before. Then +everybody disliked him--everybody avoided him: no doubt he had been +guilty of some terrible fault toward Redbud, and her friend knew it, +and would not stay in his presence. + +What could that fault be? Not his costume--not the attempt he had +made to intrude upon her privacy. Certainly Redbud never would have +punished him so cruelly for such trifling things as these, conceding +that they were distasteful to her. + +What, then, could be the meaning of all this? + +Just as he asked himself the question for the sixth time, there +appeared at the door of the apartment no less a personage than Miss +Sallianna, who, ambling into the room with that portion of the head +which we have more than once mentioned, and the lackadaisical smile +which was habitual with her, approached Verty, and graciously extended +her yellow hand. + +The young man took the extended member, and made a bow. Miss Sallianna +received it with a still more gracious smile, and asked Mr. Verty to +be seated. + +He shook his head. + +"I must go away, ma'am," he said, sadly; "Redbud has quarrelled with +me, and I cannot stay. Oh! what have I done to cause this!" + +And Verty's head sank upon his bosom, and his lips trembled. + +Miss Sallianna gazed at him with a curious smile, and after a moment's +silence, said: + +"Suppose you sit down for a minute, Mr. Verty, and tell me all about +this--this--highly intrinsic occurrence. You could not repose your +sorrows in a more sympathetic bosom than my own." + +And subsiding gracefully upon the sofa, Miss Sallianna made Verty sit +by her, and even gently moved her fan before his face, smiling and +simpering. + +Perhaps the reader may feel some surprise at the change in Miss +Sallianna's demeanor toward the young man, the fact of whose existence +she had scarcely noticed on the occasion of their first meeting in the +garden. The explanation will be neither lengthy nor difficult. Miss +Sallianna was one of those ladies who have so profound an admiration +for nature, beauty, love, and everything elevated and ennobling, +that they are fond of discussing these topics with the opposite +sex--exchanging ideas, and comparing opinions, no doubt for the +purpose of arriving at sound conclusions upon these interesting +subjects. If, in the course of these conversations, the general +discussion became particular and personal--if, in a word, the +gentleman was induced to regard the lady as an example of the beauties +they were talking about, in nature, love, etc., Miss Sallianna did not +complain, and even seemed somewhat pleased thereof. Of course there +would have been no profit or entertainment in discussing these +recondite subjects with a savage such as Verty had appeared to be upon +their former interview, when, with his long, tangled hair, hunter's +garb, and old slouched hat, he resembled an inhabitant of the +backwoods--what could such a personage know of divine philosophy, +or what pleasure could a lady take in his society?--no pleasure, +evidently. But now that was all changed. The young gentleman now +presented a civilized appearance; he was plainly becoming more +cultivated, and his education, Miss Sallianna argued, should not be +neglected by his lady acquaintances. Who wonders at such reasoning? +Is this the only instance which has ever been known? Do sentimental +ladies of an uncertain age always refuse to take charge of the growing +hearts of innocent and handsome youths, just becoming initiated in the +mysteries of the tender passion? Or do they not most willingly assume +the onerous duty of directing the _naive_ instincts of such youthful +cavaliers into proper channels and toward worthy objects--even +occasionally, from their elevated regard, present themselves as the +said "worthy objects" for the youthful affection? Queenly and most +lovely dames of uncertain age, and tender instincts, it is not +the present chronicler who will so far forget his reputation for +gallantry, as to assert that "I should like to marry" is your favorite +madrigal. + +Therefore let it be distinctly understood and remembered, as a +thing necessary and indispensable to the true comprehension of this +veracious history, that the beautiful Miss Sallianna was not attracted +by Verty's handsome dress, his fashionable coat, rosetted shoes, well +powdered hair, or embroidered waistcoat gently rubbing against the +spotless frill--that these things did not enter into her mind when she +resolved to attach the young man to her suit, and turn his affection +and "esteem" toward herself. By no means;--she saw in him only a +handsome young fellow, whose education could not prosper under the +supervision of such a mere child as Redbud; and thus she found herself +called upon to superintend it in her proper person, and for that +purpose now designed to commence initiating the youthful cavalier into +the science of the heart without delay. + +These few words may probably serve to explain the unusual favor with +which Miss Sallianna seemed to regard Verty--the _empressement_ with +which she gently fanned his agitated brow--the fascinating smile which +she threw upon him, a smile which seemed to say, "Come! confide your +sorrows to a sympathizing heart." + +Verty, preoccupied with his sad reflections, for some moments remained +silent. Miss Sallianna broke the pause by saying-- + +"You seem to be annoyed by something, Mr. Verty. Need I repeat that +in me you will find a friend of philosophic partiality and undue +influence to repose your confidential secrets in?" + +Verty sighed. + +"Oh! that is a bad sign," said the lady, simpering. + +"What, ma'am?" asked Verty, raising his head. + +"That sigh." + +"I don't feel very well." + +"In the body or the mind?" + +"I suppose it's the mind, ma'am." + +"Don't call me ma'am--I am not so much your senior. True, the various +experiences I have extracted from the circumambient universe render +me somewhat more thoughtful, but my heart is very young," said Miss +Sallianna, simpering, and slaying Verty with her eyes. + +"Yes, ma'am--I mean Miss Sallianna," he said. + +"Ah! that is better. Now let us converse about nature, my friend--" + +"If you could tell me why Redbud has--" + +Verty stopped. He had an undeveloped idea that the subject of nature +and Redbud might not appear to have any connection with each other in +the mind of Miss Sallianna. + +But that lady smiled. + +"About Redbud?" she asked, with a languishing glance. + +"Yes--Miss." + +"What of the dear child?--have you fallen out? You men must not mind +the follies of such children--and Reddy is a mere child. I should not +think she could appreciate you." + +Verty was silent; he did not know exactly what _appreciate_ meant, +which may serve as a further proof of what we have said above, in +relation to the necessity which Miss Sallianna felt she labored under, +as a tender-hearted woman, to educate Verty. + +The lady seemed to understand from her companion's countenance, that +he did not exactly comprehend the signification of her words; but as +this had occurred on other occasions, and with other persons, she felt +no surprise at the circumstance, attributing it, as was natural, +to her own extreme cultivation and philological proficiency. She +therefore smiled, and still gently agitating the fan before Verty, +repeated: + +"Have you and Redbud fallen out?" + +"Yes," said the young man. + +"Concerning what?" + +"I don't know--I mean Redbud has quarreled with me." + +"Indeed!" + +Verty replied with a sigh. + +"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "make a confidant of me, and confide your +feelings to a heart which beats responsive to your own." + +With which words the lady ogled Verty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE RESULT. + + +Verty looked at Miss Sallianna, and sighed more deeply than he +had ever sighed before. The lady's face was full of the tenderest +interest; it seemed to say, that with its possessor all secrets were +sacred, and that nothing but the purest friendship, and a desire to +serve unhappy personages, influenced her. + +Who wonders, therefore, that Verty began to think that it would be a +vast relief to him to have a confidant--that his inexperience needed +advice and counsel--that the lady who now offered to guide him through +the maze in which he was confounded and lost, knew all about the +labyrinths, and from the close association with the object of his +love, could adapt her counsel to the peculiar circumstances, better +than any one else in the wide world? Besides, Verty was a lover, and +when did lover yet fail to experience the most vehement desire to pour +into the bosom of some sympathizing friend--of either sex--the story +of his feelings and his hopes? It is no answer to this, that, in the +present instance, the lover was almost ignorant of the fact, that +he loved, and had no well-defined hopes of any description. That is +nothing to your true Corydon. Not in the least. Will he not discourse +with rising and kindling eloquence upon everything connected with his +Phillis? Will not the ribbons on her bodice, and the lace around her +neck, become the most important and delightful objects of discursive +commentary?--the very fluttering rosettes which burn upon her little +instep, and the pearls which glitter in her powdered hair, be of more +interest than the fall of thrones? So Corydon, the lover, dreams, and +dreams--and if you approach him in the forest-glade, he sighs and +talks to you, till evening reddens in the west, about Phillis, only +Phillis. And as the old Arcady lives still, and did at the time of our +history, so Corydons were ready to illustrate it, and our young friend +Verty felt the old pastoral desire to talk about his shepherdess, and +embrace Miss Sallianna's invitation to confide his sorrows to her +respective bosom. + +"Come now, my dear Mr. Verty," repeated that lady, "tell me what all +this means--are you in love, can it be--not with Reddy?" + +"Yes, ma'am, I believe I am," said Verty, yielding to his love. "Oh, +I know I am. I would die for her whenever she wanted me to--indeed I +would." + +"Hum!" said Miss Sallianna. + +"You know she is so beautiful and good--she's the best and dearest +girl that ever lived, and I was so happy before she treated me coldly +this morning! I'll never be happy any more!" + +"Cannot you banish her false image?" + +"False! she's as true as the stars! Oh, Redbud is not false! she is +too good and kind!" + +Miss Sallianna shook her head. + +"You have too high an opinion of the sex at large, I fear, Mr. Verty," +she said; "some of them are very inconstant; you had better not trust +Redbud." + +"Not trust her!" + +"Be careful, I mean." + +"How can I!" cried Verty. + +"Easily." + +"Be careful? I don't know what you mean, Miss Sallianna; but I suppose +what you say is for my good." + +"Oh yes, indeed." + +"But I can't keep still, and watch and listen, and spy out about +anybody I love so much as Redbud--for I'm certain now that I love her. +Oh, no! I must trust her--trust her in everything! Why should I not? I +have known her, Miss Sallianna, for years, and years--we were brought +up together, and we have gone hand in hand through the woods, +gathering flowers, and down by the run to play, and she has showed me +how to read and write, and she gave me a Bible; and everything which I +recollect has something in it about Redbud--only Redbud--so beautiful, +and kind, and good. Oh, Miss Sallianna, how could I be careful, and +watch, and think Redbud's smiles were not here! I could not--I would +rather die!" + +And Verty's head sank upon his hands which covered the ingenuous +blushes of boyhood and first love. In this advanced age of the world, +we can pity and laugh at this romantic nonsense--let us be thankful. + +Miss Sallianna listened with great equanimity to this outburst, and +smiling, and gently fanning Verty, said, when he had ceased speaking: + +"Don't agitate yourself, my dear friend. I suspected this. +You misunderstand my paternal counsel in suggesting to you a +suspicionative exemplification of dear little Reddy. Darling child! +she is very good; but remember that we cannot always control our +feelings." + +Verty raised his head, inquiringly. + +"You do not understand?" + +"No, ma'am," he said; "I mean, Miss--" + +"No matter--you'll get into the habit," said the lady, with a +languishing smile; "I meant to observe, my dear friend, that Reddy +might be very good, and I suppose she is--and she might have had a +great and instructive affection for you at one period; but you know we +cannot control our sentiments, and Reddy has probably fancied herself +in love with somebody else." + +Verty started, and half rose. + +"In love with somebody else?" he cried. + +"Yes," said the lady, smiling. + +"Oh, no, no!" murmured the young man, falling again into his seat. + +Miss Sallianna nodded. + +"Mind now--I do not assert it," she said; "I only say that these +children--I mean young girls at Reddy's age--are very apt to take +fancies; and then they get tired of the youths they have known well, +and will hardly speak to them. Human nature is of derisive and +touching interest, Mr. Verty," sighed the lady, "you must not expect +to find Reddy an exception. She is not perfect." + +"Oh yes, she is!" murmured poor Verty, thinking of Redbud's dreadful +change, and yet battling for her to the last with the loyal +extravagance of a true lover; "she would not--she could not--deceive +me." + +"I do not say she would." + +"But--" + +"I know what you are about to observe, sir; but, remember that the +heart is not in our power entirely"--here Miss Sallianna sighed, and +threw a languishing glance upon Verty. "No doubt Reddy loved you; +indeed, at the risk of deeming to flatter you, Mr. Verty--though I +never flatter--I must say, that it would have been very extraordinary +if Reddy had _not_ fallen in love with you, as you are so smart and +handsome. Recollect this is not flattery. I was going on to say, that +Reddy _must_ have loved you, but that does not show that she loves you +now. We cannot compress our sentiments; and Diana, Mr. Verty, the god +of love, throws his darts when we are not looking--ah!" + +Which last word of Miss Sallianna's speech represents a sigh she +uttered, as, after the manner of Diana, she darted a fatal arrow from +her eyes, at Verty. It did not slay him, however, and he only murmured +wofully, + +"Do you mean Reddy has changed, then, ma'am? Oh, what will become of +me--what shall I do!" + +Miss Sallianna threw a glance, so much more languishing than the +former, upon her companion, that had his heart not been wrapped in +Redbud, it certainly would have been pierced. + +"Follow her example," simpered Miss Sallianna, looking down with +blushing cheeks, and picking at her fan with an air of girlish +innocence. "Could you not do as she has done--and--choose--another +object yourself?" + +And Miss Sallianna raised her eyes, bashfully, to Verty's face, then +cast them with maidenly modesty upon the carpet. + +"No, ma'am," said Verty, thoughtfully, and quite ignorant of the +deadly attack designed by the fair lady upon his heart--"I don't think +I could change." + +In these simple words the honest Verty answered all. + +"Why not?" simpered the lady. + +"Because I don't think Redbud is in love with anybody else," he said; +"I know she is not!" + +"Why, then, has she treated you so badly?" said Miss Sallianna, +gradually forgetting her bashfulness, and reassuming her languishing +air and manner--"there must be some laborious circumstance, Mr. +Verty." + +Verty pressed his head with his hand, and was silent. All at once +a brighter light illumined the fair lady's face, and she addressed +herself to speak, first uttering a modest cough-- + +"Suppose I suggest a plan of finding out, sir," she said; "we might +find easily." + +"Oh, ma'am! how?" + +"Will you follow my advice?" + +"Yes, ma'am--of course. I mean if it's right. Excuse me, I did not +mean--what was your advice, ma'am?" stammered Verty. + +The lady smiled, and did not seem at all offended at Verty's +qualification. + +"It may appear singular to you at first," Miss Sallianna said; "but +my advice is, that you appear to make love--to pay attentions +to--somebody else for a short time." + +"Attentions, ma'am?" + +"Seem to like some other lady better than Redbud." + +"Oh, but that would not be right." + +"Why?" + +"Because I don't." + +Miss Sallianna smiled. + +"I don't want you to change at all, Mr. Verty," she said; "only to +take this _modus addendi_, which is the Greek for _way_,--to take this +way to find out. I would not advise it, of course, if it was wrong, +and it is the best thing you could do, indeed." + +Verty strongly combated this plan, but was met at every turn, by Miss +Sallianna, with ready logic; and the result, as is almost always the +case when men have the temerity to argue with ladies, was a total +defeat. Verty was convinced, or _talked obtuse_ upon the subject, and +with many misgivings, acquiesced in Miss Sallianna's plan. + +That lady then went on in a sly and careful manner--possibly +_diplomatic_ would be the polite word--to suggest herself as the most +proper object of Verty's experiment. He might make love to her if he +wished--she would not be offended. He might even kiss her hand, and +kneel to her, and perform any other gallant ceremony he fancied--she +would make allowances, and not become angry if he even proceeded so +far as to write her billet-doux, and ask her hand in a matrimonial +point of view. Miss Sallianna wound up by saying, that it would be an +affair of rare and opprobrious interest; and, as a comedy, would be +positively deleterious, which was probably a _lapsus linguae_ for +"delicious." + +So when Verty rose to take his departure, he was a captive to Miss +Sallianna's bow and spear; or more accurately, to her fan and tongue: +and had promised to come on the very next day, after school hours, and +commence the amusing trial of Reddy's affections. The lady tapped him +with her fan, smiled languidly, and rolled up her eyes--Verty bowed, +and took his leave of her. + +He mounted Cloud, and calling Longears, took his way sadly toward +town. Could he not look back and see those tender eyes following him +from the lattice of Redbud's room--and blessing him? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +OF THE EFFECT OF VERTY'S VIOLIN-PLAYING UPON MR. RUSHTON. + + +The young man had just reached the foot of the hill, upon which the +Bower of Nature stood--have we not mentioned before the name which +Miss Sallianna had bestowed upon the seminary?--when he heard himself +accosted by a laughing and careless voice, and raised his head, to see +from whom it proceeded. + +The voice, apparently, issued from a gentleman who had drawn rein in +the middle of the road, and was gazing at him with great good +humor and freedom. Verty returned this gaze, and the result of his +inspection was, that the new-comer was a total stranger to him. He was +a young man of about nineteen, with handsome features, characterized +by an expression of nonchalance and careless good humor; clad in a +very rich dress, somewhat foppish, but of irreproachable taste; +and the horse he bestrode was an animal as elegant in figure and +appointments as his master. + +"Hallo, friend!" the new-comer had said, "give you good-day." + +Verty nodded. + +"You don't recognize me," said the young man. + +"I believe not," replied Verty. + +"Well, that's all right; and it would be strange if you did," the +young man went on in his careless voice; "we have never met, I think, +and, faith! all I recognize about you is my coat." + +"Your coat?" + +"Coat, did I say?--worse than that! I recognize my knee-breeches, my +stockings, my chapeau, my waistcoat!" + +And the new-comer burst into a careless laugh. + +Verty shook his head. + +"They are mine, sir," he said. + +"You are mistaken." + +Verty returned the careless glance with one which seemed to indicate +that he was not very well pleased. + +"How?" he said. + +"I maintain that you are wearing my clothes, by Jove! Come, let us +fight it out;--or no! I've got an engagement, my dear fellow, and we +must put it off. Fanny is waiting for me, and would be dying with +disappointment if I didn't come." + +With which the young fellow touched his horse, and commenced humming a +song. + +"Fanny?" said Verty, with a sad smile, "what! up at old Scowley's?" + +"The very place! Why, you have caught the very form of words by which +I am myself accustomed to speak of that respectable matron." + +"I know Miss Fanny." + +"Do you?" + +"Yes." + +"Stop!" said the young man, laughing with his easy nonchalance; "tell +me if we are rivals." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Are you in love with her? Honor bright now, my dear fellow?" + +"No," said Verty, drawn, he did not know how, toward the laughing +young man; "no, not with--Miss Fanny." + +"Ah, ah!--then with whom? Not the lovely Sallianna--the admirer of +nature? Faith! you're too good-looking a fellow to throw yourself +away on such a simpering old maid. By Jove! my dear friend, and +new acquaintance, I like you! Let us be friends. My name's Ralph +Ashley--I'm Fanny's cousin. Come! confidence for confidence!" + +Verty smiled. + +"My name is Verty," he said; "I havn't any other--I'm an Indian." + +"An Indian!" + +"Yes." + +"Is it possible?" + +Verty nodded. + +"Why, you are an elegant cavalier, or the devil take it! I'm just +from Williamsburg--from the college there; and I never saw a finer +_seigneur_ than yourself, friend Verty. An Indian!" + +"That's all," said Verty; "the new clothes change me. I got 'em at +O'Brallaghan's." + +"O'Brallaghan's? The rascal! to sell my suit! That accounts for all! +But I don't complain of you. On the contrary, I'm delighted to make +your acquaintance. Have you been up there?--I suppose you have?" + +And the young man pointed toward the Bower of Nature. + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"Visiting?" + +"Yes--Redbud." + +"Pretty little Miss Summers?" + +Verty heaved a profound sigh, and said, "Yes." + +The young man shook his head. + +"Take care, my dear fellow," he said, with a wise air, "I saw her in +town the other morning, and I consider her dangerous. She would not be +dangerous to me; I am an old bird among the charming young damsels of +this wicked world, and, consequently, not to be caught by chaff--such +chaff as brilliant eyes, and rosy-cheeks, and smiles; but, without +being critical, my dear friend, I may be permitted to observe, that +you look confiding. Take care--it is the advice of a friend. Come and +see me at Bousch's tavern where I am staying, if my visnomy has made +a favorable impression--Ah! there's Fanny! I must fly to her--the +charming infant." + +And the young man gave a farewell nod to Verty, and went on singing, +and making signs to the distant Fanny. + +Verty gazed after him for a moment; then heaving another sigh much +more profound than any which had yet issued from his lips, went slowly +on toward the town--his shoulders drooping, his arms hanging down, his +eyes intently engaged in staring vacancy out of countenance. If we are +asked how it happened that the merry, joyous Verty, whose face was +before all sunshine, now resembled nobody so much as some young +and handsome Don Quixote, reflecting on the obduracy of his Toboso +Dulcinea, we can only reply, that Verty was in love, and had not +prospered lately--that is to say, on that particular day, in his suit; +and, in consequence, felt as if the world no longer held any more joy +or light for him, forever. + +With that bad taste which characterizes the victims of this delusion, +he could not consent to supply the place of the chosen object of his +love with any other image; and even regarded the classic and +romantic Miss Sallianna as wholly unworthy to supplant Redbud in his +affections. Youth is proverbially unreasonable and fastidious on these +subjects, and Verty, with the true folly of a young man, could not +discern in Miss Sallianna those thousand graces and attractions, +linguistic, philosophical, historical and scientific, which made her +so far superior to the child with whom he had played, and committed +the folly of falling in love with. So he went along sighing, with his +arms hanging down, as we have said, and his shoulders drooping; and in +this melancholy guise, reached the office of Judge Rushton. + +He found Mr. Roundjacket still driving away with his pen, only +stopping at intervals to flourish his ruler, or to cast an +affectionate glance upon the MS. of his great poem, which, gracefully +tied with red tape arranged in a magnificent bow, lay by him on the +desk. + +On Verty's entrance the poet raised his head, and looked at him +curiously. + +"Well, my fine fellow," he said, "what luck in your wooing? You look +as wo-begone as the individual who drew Priam's curtain at the dead of +night. Come! my young savage, why are you so sad?" + +Verty sat down, murmuring something. + +"Speak out!" said Mr. Roundjacket, wiping his pen. + +"I'm not very sad," Verty replied, looking perfectly +disconsolate--"what made you think so, Mr. Roundjacket?" + +"Your physiognomy, my young friend. Are you happy with such a face as +that?' + +"Such a face?" + +"Yes; I tell you that you look as if you had just parted with all your +hopes--as if some adverse fate had deprived you of the privilege of +living in this temple of Thespis and the muses. You could not look +more doleful if I had threatened never to read any more of my great +poem to you." + +"Couldn't?" said Verty, listlessly. + +"No." + +The young man only replied with a sigh. + +"There it is--you are groaning. Come; have you quarreled with your +mistress?" + +Verty colored, and his head sank. + +"Please don't ask me, sir," he said; "I have not been very happy +to-day--everything has gone wrong. I had better get to my work, +sir,--I may forget it." + +And with a look of profound discouragement, which seemed to be +reflected in the sympathizing face of Longears, who had stretched +himself at his master's feet and now lay gazing at him, Verty opened +the record he had been copying, and began to write. + +Roundjacket looked at him for a moment in silence, and then, with +an expression of affection and pity, which made his grotesque face +absolutely handsome, muttered something to himself, and followed +Verty's example. + +When Roundjacket commenced writing, he did so with the regularity +and accuracy of a machine which is set in motion by the turning of +a crank, and goes on until it is stopped. This was the case on the +present occasion, and Verty seemed as earnestly engaged in his own +particular task. But appearances are deceptive--Indian nature will not +take the curb like Anglo-Saxon--and a glance over Verty's shoulders +will reveal the species of occupation which he became engaged in after +finishing ten lines of the law paper. + +He was tracing with melancholy interest a picture upon the sheet +beneath his pen; and this was a lovely little design of a young girl, +with smiling lips, kind, tender eyes, and cheeks which were round and +beautiful with mirth. With a stroke of the pen Verty added the waving +hair, brushed back _a la Pompadour_ the foam of lace around the neck, +and the golden drop in the little ear. Redbud looked at you from the +paper, with her modest eyes and smiles--and for a moment Verty gazed +at the creation of his pencil, sighing mournfully. + +Then, with a deeper sigh than before, he drew beneath this another +sketch--the same head, but very different. The eyes now were cold +and half closed--the lips were close together, and seemed almost +disdainful--and as the gentle bending forward in the first design was +full of pleasant _abandon_ and graceful kindness, so the head in the +present sketch had that erect and frigid carriage which indicates +displeasure. + +Verty covered his eyes with his hand, and leaning down upon the desk, +was silent and motionless, except that a stifled sigh would at times +issue from his lips, a sad heaving of his breast indicate the nature +of his thoughts. + +Longears rose, and coming to his master, wagged his tail, and asked, +with his mute but intelligent glance, what had happened. + +Verty felt the dog lick his hand, and rose from his recumbent posture. + +"Yes, yes, Longears," he murmured, "I can't help showing it--even you +know that I am not happy." + +And with listless hands he took up the old violin which lay upon +his desk and touched the strings. The sound died away in trembling +waves--Roundjacket continued writing. + +Verty, without appearing to be conscious of what he was doing, took +the bow of the violin, and placing the instrument upon his shoulder, +leaned his ear down to it, and drew the hair over the strings. A long, +sad monotone floated through the room. + +Roundjacket wrote on. + +Verty, with his eyes fixed on vacancy, his lips sorrowfully listless, +his frame drooping more and more, began to play a low, sad air, which +sounded like a sigh. + +Roundjacket raised his head, and looked at the musician. + +Verty leaned more and more upon his instrument, listening to it as +to some one speaking to him, his eyes closed, his bosom heaving, his +under lip compressed sorrowfully as he dreamed. + +Roundjacket was just about to call upon Verty to cease his savage and +outrageous conduct, or Mr. Rushton, who was in the other room, would +soon issue forth and revenge such a dreadful violation of law office +propriety, when the door of that gentleman's sanctum opened, and he +appeared upon the threshold. + +But far from bearing any resemblance to the picture of the poet's +imagination--instead of standing mute with rage, and annihilating the +musician with a horrible scowl from beneath his shaggy and frowning +brows, Mr. Rushton presented a perfect picture of softness and +emotion. His head bending forward, his eyes half closed and filled +with an imperceptible mist, his whole manner quiet, and sad, and +subdued, he seemed to hang upon the long-drawn sighing of the violin, +and take a mournful pleasure in its utterances. + +Verty's hand passed more and more slowly backward and forward--the +music became still more affecting, and passing from thoughtfulness +to sadness, and from sadness to passionate regret, it died away in a +wail. + +He felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned round. Mr. Rushton, with +moist eyes and trembling lips, was gazing at him. + +"Do not play that any more, young man," he said, in a low tone, "it +distresses me." + +"Distresses you, sir?" said Verty. + +"Yes." + +"What? 'Lullaby?'" + +"Yes," muttered the lawyer. + +Verty's sad eyes inquired the meaning of so singular a fact, but Mr. +Rushton did not indulge this curiosity. + +"Enough," he said, with more calmness, as he turned away, "it is not +proper for you to play the violin here in business hours; but above +all, never again play that music--I cannot endure the memories it +arouses--enough." + +And retiring slowly, Mr. Rushton disappeared, closing the door of his +room behind him. + +Verty followed him with his eyes until he was no longer visible, then +turned toward Mr. Roundjacket for an explanation. That gentleman +seemed to understand this mute interrogation, but only shook his head. + +Therefore Verty returned to his work, sadly laying aside the two +sketches of Redbud, and selecting another sheet to copy the record +upon. By the time he had finished one page, Mr. Roundjacket rose from +his desk, stretched himself, and announced that office hours were +over, and he would seek his surburban cottage, where this gentleman +lived in bachelor misery. Verty said he was tired, too; and before +long had told Mr. Roundjacket good-bye, and mounted Cloud. + +With Longears at his side, soberly walking in imitation of the horse, +Verty went along toward his home in the hills, gazing upon the golden +west, and thinking still of Redbud. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +A YOUNG GENTLEMAN, JUST FROM WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE. + + +Instead of following Verty, who, like most lovers, is very far from +being an amusing personage, let us go back and accompany Mr. Ralph +Ashley, on his way to the Bower of Nature, where our young friend +Fanny awaits him; and if these scenes and characters also fail to +entertain us, we may at least be sure that they are from the book of +human nature--a volume whose lightest chapters and most frivolous +illustrations are not beneath the attention of the wisest. If this +were not true, the present chronicler would never be guilty of the +folly of expending his time and ink upon such details as go to make up +this true history; it would be lost labor, were not the flower and the +blade of grass, the very thistle down upon the breeze, each and all, +as wonderful as the grand forests of the splendid tropics. What +character or human deed is too small or trivial for study? Never did a +great writer utter truer philosophy than when he said: + + "Say not 'a small event!' Why 'small?' + Costs it more pains than this, ye call + A 'great event,' shall come to pass, + Than that? Untwine me from the mass + Of deeds which make up life, one deed + Power shall fall short in, or exceed!" + +And now after this philosophical dissertation upon human life and +actions, we may proceed to narrate the visit of Mr. Ralph Ashley, +graduate of Williamsburg, and cousin of Miss Fanny, to the Bower of +Nature, and its inmates. + +Fanny was at the door when he dismounted, and awaited the young +gentleman with some blushes, and a large amount of laughter. + +This laughter was probably directed toward the somewhat dandified +costume of the young gentleman, and he was not long left in the dark +upon this point. + +"How d'ye do, my dearest Fanny," said Mr. Ralph Ashley, hastening +forward, and holding out his arms; "let us embrace!" + +"Humph!" said Fanny; "indeed you shan't!" + +"Shan't what--kiss you?" + +"Yes, sir: you shall do nothing of the sort!" + +"Wrong!--here goes!" + +And before Miss Fanny could make her retreat, Ralph Ashley, Esq., +caught that young lady in his arms, and impressed a salute upon her +lips, so remarkably enthusiastic, that it resembled the discharge of +a pistol. Perhaps we are wrong in saying that it was imprinted on +his cousin's lips, inasmuch as Miss Fanny, though incapacitated +from releasing herself, could still turn her head, and she always +maintained that nothing but her cheek suffered. On this point we +cannot be sure, and therefore leave the question undecided. + +Of one fact, however, there can be no doubt--namely, that Mr. Ralph +Ashley received, almost immediately, a vigorous salute of another +description upon the cheek, from Miss Fanny's open hand--a salute +which caused his face to assume the most girlish bloom, and his eyes +to suddenly fill with tears. + +"By Jove! you've got an arm!" said the cavalier, admiringly. "Come, my +charming child--why did you treat me so cruelly?" + +"Why did you kiss me? Impudence!" + +"That's just what young ladies always say," replied her cavalier, +philosophically; "whatever they like, they are sure to call impudent." + +"Like?" + +"Yes, like! Do you pretend to say that you are not complimented by a +salute from such an elegant gentleman as myself?" + +"Oh, of course!" said Miss Fanny, satirically. + +"Then the element of natural affection--of consanguinity--has its due +weight no doubt, my dearest. I am your cousin." + +"What of that, man?" + +"Everything! Don't you know that in this reputable province, called +Virginia, blood goes a great way? Cousins are invariably favorites." + +"You are very much mistaken, sir," said Fanny. + +"There it is--you girls always deny it, and always believe it," said +Mr. Ralph, philosophically. "Now, you would die for me." + +"Die, indeed!" + +"Would'nt you?" + +"Fiddlesticks!" + +"That's an impressive observation, and there's no doubt about your +meaning, though the original signification, the philological origin of +the phrase, is somewhat cloudy. You won't expire for me, then?" + +"No!" + +"Then live for me, delight of my existence!" said Mr. Ralph Ashley, +with a languishing glance, and clasping his hands romantically as he +spoke; "live for one, whose heart is wrapped in thee!" + +Miss Fanny's sense of the ludicrous was strong, and this pathetic +appeal caused her to burst into laughter. + +"More ridiculous than ever, as I live!" she cried, "though I thought +that was impossible." + +"Did you?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Ashley gently twined a lock around his finger, and assuming a +foppish air, replied: + +"I don't know whether you thought it impossible for me to become more +ridiculous; but you can't help confessing, my own Fanny, that you +doubted whether I could grow more fascinating." + +Fanny's lip curled. + +"Oh, yes!" she said. + +"Come--don't deny what was perfectly plain--it won't do." + +"Deny--?" + +"That you were desperately in love with me, and that I was your +sweetheart, as the children say." + +And Mr. Ralph gently caressed the downy covering of his chin, and +smiled. + +"What a conceited thing you are," said Fanny, laughing; "you are +outrageous." + +And having uttered this opinion, Miss Fanny's eyes suddenly fell, and +her merry cheek colored. The truth was simply, that Ralph had been a +frank, good-humored, gallant boy, and the neighbors _had_ said, that +he was Fanny's "sweetheart;" and the remembrance of this former +imputation now embarrassed the nearly-grown-up young lady. No one +could remain embarrassed in Mr. Ralph's society long however; there +was so much careless ease in his demeanor, that it was contagious, +and so Fanny in a moment had regained all her self-possession, and +returned the languishing glances of her admirer with her habitual +expression of satirical humor. + +"Yes, perfectly outrageous!" she said; "and college has positively +ruined you--you cannot deny it." + +"Ruined me?" + +"Wholly." + +"On the contrary, it has greatly improved me, my dearest." + +And Ralph sat down on the trellised portico, stretching out his +elegant rosetted shoes, and laughing. + +"I am not your dearest," said Fanny; "that is not my name." + +"You are mistaken! But come, sit by me: I'm just in the mood to talk." + +"No! I don't think I will." + +"Pray do." + +"No," said Fanny, shaking her head coquettishly, "I'll stand while +your lordship discourses." + +"You positively shan't!" + +And with these words, the young man grasped Miss Fanny's long +streaming hair-ribbon, and gently drew it toward him, laughing. + +Fanny cried out. Ralph laughed more than ever. + +There was but one alternative left for the young girl. She must either +see her elegantly bound up raven locks deprived of their confining +ribbon, and so fall in wild disorder, or she must obey the command +of the enemy, and sit quietly beside him. True, there was the third +course of becoming angry, and raising her head with dignified hauteur. +But this course had its objections--it would not do to quarrel with +her cousin and former playmate immediately upon his return; and again +the movement of the head, which we have indicated, would have been +attended by consequences exceedingly disastrous. + +Therefore, as Ralph continued to draw toward him gently the scarlet +ribbon, with many smiles and admiring glances, Miss Fanny gradually +approached the seat, and finally sat down. + +"There, sir!" she said, pouting, "I hope you are satisfied!" + +"Perfectly; the fact is, my sweet Fanny, I never was anything else +_but_ satisfied with _you_! I always was fascinated with you." + +"That's one of the things which you were taught at college, I +suppose." + +"What?" + +"Making pretty speeches." + +"No, they didn't teach that, by Jove! Nothing but wretched Latin, +Greek and Mathematics--things, evidently, of far less importance than +the art you mention." + +"Oh! of course." + +"And the reason is plain. A gentleman never uses the one after he +leaves college, and lays them by with the crabbed books that +teach them; while the art of compliment is always useful and +agreeable--especially agreeable to young ladies of your exceedingly +juvenile age--is't not?" + +"Very agreeable." + +"I know it is; and when a woman descends to it, and flatters a +man--ah! my dear Fanny, there's no hope for him. I am a melancholy +instance." + +"You!" laughed Fanny, who had regained her good-humor. + +"Yes; you know Williamsburg has many other things to recommend it +besides the college." + +"What things?" + +"Pretty girls." + +"Oh! indeed." + +"Yes, and I assure you I did not neglect the opportunity of +prosecuting my favorite study--the female character. Don't interrupt +me--your character is no longer a study to me." + +"I am very glad, sir." + +"I made you out long ago--like the rest of your sex, you are, of +course, very nearly angelic, but still have your faults." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"All true--but about Williamsburg--I was, I say, a melancholy sample +of the effect produced by a kind and friendly speech from a lady. +Observe, that the said speech was perfectly commonplace, and sprung, +I'm sure, from the speaker's general amiability; and yet, what must I +do, but go and fall in love with her." + +"Oh!" from Fanny. + +"Yes--true as truth itself; and, as a consequence, my friends, for +the first, and only time, had a good joke against me. They had a tale +about my going to his Excellency, the Governor's palace, to look at +the great map there--all for the purpose of finding where the country +was in which she lived; for, observe, she was only on a visit to +Williamsburg--of studying out this boundary, and that--this river to +cross, and that place to stop at,--the time it would take to carry my +affections over them--and all the thousand details. Of course, this +was not true, my darling Fanny, at least--" + +"Ralph, you shall stop talking to me like a child!" exclaimed Fanny, +who had listened to the details of Mr. Ashley's passion with more and +more constraint; "please to remember that I am not a baby, sir." + +Ralph looked at the lovely face, with its rosy-cheeks and flashing +eyes, and burst out laughing. + +"There, you are as angry as Cleopatra, when the slave brought her bad +news--and, by Jove, Fanny, you are twice as lovely. Really! you have +improved wonderfully. Your eyes, at this moment, are as brilliant +as fire--your lips like carnation--and your face like sunlit gold; +recollect, I'm a poet. I'm positively rejoiced at the good luck which +made me bring such a lovely expression into your fair countenance." + +Fanny turned her head away. + +"Come now, Fanny," said Ralph, seriously, "I do believe you are going +to find fault with my nonsense." + +No reply. + +Mr. Ralph Ashley heaved a sigh; and was silent. + +"You treat me like a child," said Fanny, reproachfully; "I am not a +child." + +"You certainly are not, my dearest Fanny--you are a charming young +lady--the most delicious of your sex." + +And Mr. Ralph Ashley accompanied these words with a glance so +ludicrously languishing, that Fanny, unable to command herself, burst +into laughter; and the quarrel was all made up, if quarrel it indeed +had been. + +"You _were_ a child in old times," said Mr. Ashley, throwing his foot +elegantly over his knee; "and, I recollect, had a perfect genius for +blindman's-buff; but, of course, at sixteen you have 'put away' all +those infantile or 'childish things'--though I am sincerely rejoiced +to see that you have not 'become a man.'" + +Fanny laughed. + +"I wish I was," she said. + +"What?" + +"Why a man." + +"Oh! you're very well as you are;--though if you were a 'youth,' I'm +sure, Fanny dear, I should be desperately fond of you." + +"Quite likely." + +"Oh, nothing truer; and everybody would say, 'See the handsome +friends.' Come now, would'nt we make a lovely couple." + +"Lovely!" + +"Suppose we try it." + +"Try what?" + +"Being a couple." + +Fanny suddenly caught, from the laughing eye, the young man's meaning, +and began to color. + +"I see you understand, my own Fanny," observed Mr. Ralph, "and I +expected nothing less from a young lady of your quickness. What say +you? It is not necessary for me to say that I'm desperately in love +with you." + +"Oh, not at all necessary!" replied Fanny, satirically, but with a +blush. + +"I see you doubt it." + +"Oh, not at all." + +"Which means, as usual with young ladies, that you don't believe a +word of it. Well, only try me. What proof will you have?" + +Fanny laughed with the same expression of constraint which we have +before observed, and said: + +"You have not looked upon the map of Virginia yet for my +'boundaries?'" + +Ralph received the hit full in the front. + +"By Jove! Fanny," he exclaimed, "I oughtn't to have told you that." + +"I'm glad you did." + +"Why?" + +"Because, of course, I shall not make any efforts to please you--you +are already 'engaged!'" + +"Engaged! well, you are wrong. Neither my heart nor my hand is +engaged. Ah, dear Fanny, you don't know how we poor students carry +away with us to college some consuming passion which we feed and +nurture;--how we toast the Dulcinea at oyster parties, and, like +Corydon, sigh over her miniature. I had yours!" + +"My--miniature?" said the lively Fanny, with a roseate blush, "you had +nothing of the sort." + +"Your likeness, then." + +"Equally untrue--where is it?" + +"Here!" said Mr. Ralph Ashley, laying his hand upon his heart, and +ogling Miss Fanny with terrible expression. "Ah, Fanny, darling, don't +believe that story I relate about myself--never has any one made any +impression on me--for my heart--my love--my thoughts--have always--" + +Suddenly the speaker became silent, and rising to his feet, made a +courteous and graceful bow. A young lady had just appeared at the +door. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE NECKLACE. + + +This was Redbud. + +The poor girl presented a great contrast to the lively Fanny, who, +with sparkling eyes and merry lips, and rosy, sunset cheeks, afforded +an excellent idea of the joyous Maia, as she trips on gathering her +lovely flowers. Poor Redbud! Her head was hanging down, her eyes +wandered sadly and thoughtfully toward the distant autumn horizon, and +the tender lips wore that expression of soft languor which is so sad a +spectacle in the young. + +At Mr. Ralph Ashley's bow, she raised her head quickly; and her +startled look showed plainly she had not been conscious of the +presence of Fanny, or the young man on the portico. + +Redbud returned the profound bow of Fanny's cavalier with a delightful +little curtsey, and would have retired into the house again. But this +Miss Fanny, for reasons best known to herself, was determined to +prevent--reasons which a close observer might have possibly guessed, +after looking at her blushing cheeks and timid, uneasy eyes. For +everybody knows that if there is anything more distasteful and +embarrassing to very young ladies than a failure on the part of +gallants to recognise their claims to attention, that other more +embarrassing circumstance is a too large _quantum_ of the pleasing +incense. It is not the present writer, however, who will go so far +as to say that their usual habit of running _away_ from the admirer +should be taken, as in other feminine manoeuvres, by contraries. + +So Fanny duly introduced Mr. Ralph Ashley to Miss Redbud Summers; and +then, with a little masonic movement of the head, added, with perfect +ease: + +"Suppose we all take a walk in the garden--it is a very pretty +evening." + +This proposition was enthusiastically seconded by Mr. Ralph Ashley, +who had regained his laughing ease again--and though Redbud would fain +have been excused, she was obliged to yield, and so in ten minutes +they were promenading up and down the old garden, engaged in pleasant +conversation--which conversation has, however, nothing to do with this +veracious history. + +Just as they arrived, in one of their perambulatory excursions around +the walks, at a small gate which opened on the hill-side, they +discovered approaching them a worthy of the pedlar description, who +carried on his broad German shoulders a large pack, which, as the +pedlar jogged along, made, pretences continually of an intention to +dive forward over his head, but always without carrying this intention +into execution. The traveling merchant seemed to be at the moment a +victim to that species of low spirits which attacks all his class when +trade is dull; and no sooner had he descried the youthful group, than +his face lighted up with anticipated business. + +He came to the gate at which they stood, and ducking his head, unslung +the pack, and without further ceremony opened it. + +A tempting array of stuffs and ribbons, pencils, pinchbeck jewels and +thimbles, scissors and knives, immediately became visible; with many +other things which it is not necessary for us to specify. The +pedlar called attention to them by pointing admiringly at each, and +recommended them by muttering broken English over them. + +With that propensity of young ladies to handle and examine all +articles which concern themselves with personal adornment, Fanny and +Redbud, though they really wanted nothing, turned over everything in +the pack. But little resulted therefrom for the pedlar. He did not +succeed in persuading Redbud to buy a beautiful dress pattern, with +dahlias and hollyhocks, in their natural size and colors; and was +equally unsuccessful with Fanny, who obstinately declined to +reduce into her possession a lovely lace cap, such as our dear +old grandmamas' portraits show us--though this description may be +incorrect, as Fanny always said that the article in question was a +night-cap. + +Disappointed in this, the pedlar brought out his minor "articles;" and +here he was more successful. Mr. Ashley bought sufficiently for his +young lady friends at the seminary, he said, and Redbud and Fanny both +purchased little things. + +Fanny bought the most splendid glass breastpin, which she pretended, +with a merry laugh, to admire "to distraction." Redbud, without +knowing very well why, bought a little red coral necklace, which +looked bright and new, and rattled merrily as she took it; for some +reason the pedlar parted with it for a very small sum, and then +somewhat hastily packed up his goods, and ducking his head in thanks, +went on his way. + +"Look what a very handsome breastpin I have!" said Fanny, as they +returned through the garden; "I'm sure nobody would know that it is +not a diamond." + +"You are right," said Mr. Ashley, smiling, "the world is given to +judging almost wholly from outward appearances. And what did you +purchase, Miss Summers--or Miss Redbud, if you will permit me--" + +"Oh, yes, sir," said Redbud, looking at him with her kind, sad eyes, +"you need'nt be ceremonious with _me_. Besides, you're Fanny's cousin. +I bought this necklace--I thought it old-fashioned and pretty." + +Redbud was silent again, her eyes bent quietly upon the walk, the long +lashes reposing thus upon the tender little cheeks. + +"Old-fashioned and pretty," said the young man, with a smile, "did you +not make a mistake there, Miss Redbud?" + +"No, sir--I meant it," she said, raising her eyes simply to his +own. "I think old-fashioned things are very often prettier and more +pleasant than new ones. Don't you?" + +"I do!" cried Fanny; "I'm sure my great grandmother's diamond +breastpin is much handsomer than this horrid thing!" + +And the young lady tore the pinchbeck jewel from her neck. + +Mr. Ashley laughed. + +"There's your consistency," he said; "just now you thought nothing +could be finer." + +Miss Fanny vehemently opposed this view of her character at great +length, and with extraordinary subtilty. We regret that the exigencies +of our narrative render it impossible for us to follow her--we can +only state that the result, as on all such occasions, was the total +defeat of the cavalier. Mr. Ralph Ashley several times stated his +willingness to subscribe to any views, opinions or conclusions which +Miss Fanny desired him to, and finally placed his fingers in his ears. + +Fanny greeted this manoeuvre with a sudden blow in the laugher's face, +from her bouquet; and Redbud, forgetting her disquietude, laughed +gaily at the merry cousins. + +So they entered, and met the bevy of young school girls on the +portico, with whom Mr. Ralph Ashley, in some manner, became +instantaneously popular: perhaps partly on account of the grotesque +presents he scattered among them, with his gay, joyous laughter. After +thus making himself generally agreeable, he looked at the setting sun, +and said he must go. He would, however, soon return, he said, to see +his dearest Fanny, the delight of his existence. And having made +this pleasant speech, he went away on his elegant horse, laughing, +good-humored, and altogether a very pleasing, graceful-looking +cavalier, as the red sunset showered upon his rich apparel and his +slender charger all its wealth of ruddy, golden light. + +And as he went on thus, so gallant, in the bravery of youth and joy, +a young lady, sitting on the sun-lit portico, followed him with her +eyes; and leaning her fine brow, with its ebon curls, upon her hand, +mused with a sigh and a smile. And when the cavalier turned round as +the trees swallowed him, and waved his hat, with its fine feather, in +the golden light, Miss Fanny murmured--"Really, I think--Ralph--has +very much--improved!" Which seemed to be a very afflicting +circumstance to Miss Fanny, inasmuch as she uttered a deep sigh. + +Meanwhile our little Redbud gazed, too, from the brilliantly-illumined +portico, toward the golden ocean in the west. The rich light lingered +lovingly upon her golden hair, and tender lips and cheeks, and snowy +neck, on which the coral necklace rose and fell with the pulsations of +her heart. The kind, mild eyes were fixed upon the sunset sadly, and +their blue depths seemed to hold more than one dew-drop, ready to pass +the barrier of the long dusky lashes, which closed gradually as the +pure white forehead drooped upon her hand. + +For a long time the tender heart remained thus still and quiet; then +her lips moved faintly, and she murmured-- + +"Oh, it is wrong--I know it is--I ought not to!" + +And two tears fell on the child's hand, and on the necklace, which the +fingers held. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +PHILOSOPHICAL. + + +We left our friend Verty slowly going onward toward the western hills, +under the golden autumn sunset, with drooping head and listless arms, +thinking of Redbud and the events of the day, which now was going to +its death in royal purple over the far horizon. + +One thought, one image only dwelt in the young man's mind, and what +that thought was, his tell-tale lips clearly revealed:--"Redbud! +Redbud!" they murmured; and the dreamer seemed to be wholly dead to +that splendid scene around him, dreaming of his love. + +There are those who speak slightingly of boyhood and its feelings, +scoffing at the early yearnings of the heart, and finding only food +for jest in those innocent and childish raptures and regrets. We do +not envy such. That man's heart must be made of doubtful stuff, who +jeers at the fresh dreams of youth; or rather, he must have no heart +at all--above all, no sweet and affecting recollections. There is +something touching in the very idea of this pure and unselfish +emotion, which the hardened nature of the grown-up man can never feel +again. Men often dream about their childhood, and shed unavailing +tears as they gaze in fancy on their own youthful faces, and with the +pencil of imagination slowly trace the old forms and images. + +Said a writer of our acquaintance, no matter who, since no one read or +thought of him:--"The writer of these idle lines finds no difficulty +in painting for himself a Titian picture, in which, as in his +life-picture, his own figure lies on the canvas. Long ago--a long, +long time ago--in fact, when he was a boy, and loved dearly a child +like himself, a child who is now a fair and beautiful-browed woman, +and who smiles with a dreamy, thoughtful expression, when his face +comes to her--long ago, flowers were very bright in the bright May +day, by a country brookside. The butter-cups were over all the hills, +for children to put under their chins, and pea-blossoms, very much +like lady-slippers, swayed prettily in the wind. Beneath the feet of +the boy and girl--she was a merry, bright-eyed child! how I love her +still!--broke crocuses and violets, and a thousand wild flowers, fresh +and full of fairy beauty. The grass was green and soft, and the birds +rose through the air on fluttering wings, singing and rejoicing, and +the clouds floated over them as only clouds in May can float, quickly, +hopefully, with a dash of changeful April in them--not like those of +August: for the May cloud is a maiden, a child, full of life and joy, +running and playing, and looking playfully back at the winds as they +rustle on--not August-like--a thoughtful ripened beauty, large, lazy, +and contemplative, whose spring of youth has passed, whose summer has +arrived, in all its wealth, and power, and languid splendor. Well, +they wandered--the boy and girl--on the bright May day, pleasantly +across the hills, and along the brook, which ran merrily over the +pebbles as bright as diamonds. That boy has now become a man, and he +has vainly sought, in all the glittering pursuits of life, an adequate +recompense for the death of those soft hours. Having gone, as all +things must go, they left no equivalent in the future. But not, +therefore, in sadness does he write this: rather in deep joy, and as +though he had said-- + + 'Give me a golden pen, and let me lean + On heaped-up flowers--' + +"So wholly flooded is his heart with the memory of that young, frank +face. She wore a pink dress, he recollects--all children should wear +either pink or white--and her hair was in long, bright curls, and her +eyes were diamonds, full of light. He thought the birds were envious +of her singing, when she carolled clearly in the bright May morning. +He wove her a garland of flowers for her hair, and she blushed as +she took it from his hands. She had on a small gold ring, and a red +bracelet; and since that time he has loved red bracelets more than all +barbaric pearls and gold. In those times, the trees were greener than +at present, the birds sang more sweetly, and the streams ran far more +merrily. They thought so at least, as they sat under a large oak, and +he read to her, with shadowy, loving eyes, nearly full of happy tears, +old songs, that 'dallied with the innocence of love, like the old +age.' And so the evening went into the west, and they returned, +and all the night and long days afterward her smile shone on him, +brightening his life as it does now." + +Who laughs? Is it at Verty going along with drooping forehead, and +deep sighs; or at the unappreciated great poet, whose prose-strains we +have recorded? Well, friends, perhaps you have reason. Therefore, +let us unite our voices in one great burst of "inextinguishable +laughter"--as of the gods on Mount Olympus--raised very high above the +world! + +Let us rejoice that we have become more rational, and discarded +all that folly, and are busying ourselves with rational +affairs--Wall-street, and cent per cent. and dividends. Having +become men, we have put away childish things, and among them, the +encumbrances of a heart. Who would have one? It makes you dream on +autumn days, when the fair sunlight streams upon the sails which waft +the argosies of commerce to your warehouse;--it almost leads you to +believe that stocks are not the one thing to be thought of on this +earth--that all the hurrying bustle of existence is of doubtful +weight, compared with the treasures of that memory which leads us back +to boyhood and its innocent illusions. Let us part with it, if any +indeed remains, and so press on, unfettered, in the glorious race for +cash. The "golden age" of Arcady is gone so long--the new has +come! The crooks wreathed round with flowers are changed into +telegraph-posts, and Corydon is on a three-legged stool, busy with +ledgers--knitting his brow as he adds up figures. Let us be thankful. + +Therefore, as we have arrived at this rational conclusion, and come to +regard Verty and his feelings in their proper light, we will not speak +further of the foolish words which escaped from his lips, as he +went on, in the crimson sunset slowly fading. In time, perhaps, his +education will be completed in the school of Rational Philosophy, +under that distinguished lady-professor, Miss Sallianna. At present +we shall allow him to proceed upon his way toward his lodge in the +wilderness, where the old Indian woman awaits him with her deep love +and anxious tenderness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +CONSEQUENCES OF MISS SALLIANNA'S PASSION FOR VERTY. + + +When Verty made his appearance at the office in Winchester, on the +morning of the day which followed immediately the events we have just +related, Roundjacket received him with a mysterious smile, and with +an expression of eye, particularly, which seemed to suggest the most +profound secrecy and confidence. Roundjacket did not say anything, but +his smile was full of meaning. + +Verty, however, failed to comprehend;--even paid no attention to +his poetical friend, when that gentleman put his hand in his +breast-pocket, and half-drew something therefrom, looking at Verty. + +The young man was too much absorbed in gloomy thought to observe these +manoeuvres; and, besides, we must not lose sight of the fact, that he +was an Indian, and did not understand hints and intimations as well as +civilized individuals. + +Roundjacket was forced, at last, to clear his throat and speak. + +"Hem!" observed the poet. + +"Sir?" said Verty, for the tone of Roundjacket's observation was such +as to convey the impression that he was about to speak. + +"I've got something for you, my dear fellow," said the poet. + +"Have you, sir?" + +"Yes; now guess what it is." + +"I don't think I could." + +"What do you imagine it can be?" + +Verty shook his head, and leaned upon his desk. + +"It has some connection with the subject of numerous conversations +we have held," said Roundjacket, persuasively, waving backward and +forward the ruler which he had taken up abstractedly, and as he +did so, indulging in a veiled and confidential smile; "now you can +guess--can't you?" + +"I think not, sir." + +"Why, what have we been talking about lately?" + +"Law." + +"No, sir!" + +"Havn't we?" + +"By no means--that is to say, there is a still more interesting +subject, my dear young savage, than even law." + +"Oh, I know now--" + +"Ah--!" + +"It is poetry." + +"Bah!" observed the poet; "you're out yet. But who knows? Your guess +may be correct. It may be poetry." + +"What, sir?" + +"This letter for you, from a lady," said Roundjacket, smiling, and +drawing from his pocket an elegantly folded billet. + +Verty rose quickly. + +"A letter for me, sir!" he said, blushing. + +"Yes; not from a great distance though," Roundjacket replied, with a +sly chuckle; "see here; the post-mark is the 'Bower of Nature.'" + +Verty extended his hand abruptly, his lips open, his countenance +glowing. + +"Oh, give it to me, sir!" + +Roundjacket chuckled more than ever, and handing it to the young man, +said: + +"An African of small dimensions brought it this morning, and said no +answer was required--doubtless, therefore, it is _not_ a love-letter, +the writers of which are well-known to appreciate replies. Hey! what's +the matter, my friend?" + +This exclamation was called forth by the sudden and extraordinary +change in Verty's physiognomy. As we have said, the young man had +received the letter with a radiant flush, and a brilliant flash of his +fine eye; and thus the reader will easily comprehend, when we inform +him, that Verty imagined the letter to be from Redbud. Redbud was his +one thought, the only image in his mind, and Roundjacket's words, +"post-mark, the Bower of Nature," had overwhelmed him with the +blissful expectation of a note from Redbud, with loving words of +explanation in it, recalling him, making him once more happy. He tore +open the letter, which was simply directed to "Mr. Verty, at Judge +Rushton's office," and found his dream dispelled. Alas! the name, at +the foot of the manuscript, was not "Redbud"--it was "Sallianna!" + +And so, when the young man's hopes were overturned, the bright flash +of his clear eye was veiled in mist again, and his hand fell, with a +gesture of discouragement, which Roundjacket found no difficulty in +understanding. + +Verty's face drooped upon his hand, and with the other hand, which +held the letter, hanging down at the side of his chair, he sighed +profoundly. He remained thus, buried in thought, for some time, +Roundjacket gazing at him in silence. He was aroused by something +pulling at the letter, which turned to be Longears, who was biting +Miss Sallianna's epistle in a literary way, and this aroused him. He +saw Roundjacket looking at him. + +"Ah--ah!" said that gentleman, "it seems, young man, that the letter +is not to your taste." + +Verty sighed. + +"I hav'nt read it," he said. + +"How then--?" + +"It's not from Redbud." + +Roundjacket chuckled. + +"I begin to understand now why your face changed so abruptly when +you recognized the handwriting, Mr. Verty," said the poet; gently +brandishing the ruler, and directing imaginary orchestras; "you +expected a note from your friend, Miss Redbud--horrid habit you have, +that of cutting off the Miss--and now you are unhappy." + +"Yes--unhappy," Verty said, leaning his head on his wrist. + +"Who's the letter from?" + +"It's marked private and confidential, sir; I ought not to tell +you--ought I." + +"No, sir, by no means," said Roundjacket; "I would'nt listen to it for +a bag of doubloons. But you should read it." + +"I will, sir," Verty said, sighing. + +And he spread the letter out before him and read it carefully, with +many varying expressions on his face. The last expression of all, +however, was grief and pain. As he finished, his head again drooped, +and his sorrowful eyes were fixed on vacancy. + +"I'll tell you what it is, Verty, my friend," said Roundjacket, +chuckling, "I don't think we make much by keeping you from paying a +daily visit to some of your friends. My own opinion is, that you would +do more work if you went and had some amusement." + +"And I think so, too," said a rough voice behind the speaker, whose +back was turned to the front door of the office; "it is refreshing +to hear you talking sense, instead of nonsense, once in your life, +Roundjacket." + +And Mr. Rushton strode in, and looked around him with a scowl. + +"Good morning, sir," said Verty, sadly. + +"Good morning, sir?" growled Mr. Rushton, "no, sir! it's a a bad +morning, a wretched, diabolical morning, if the sun _is_ pretending to +shine." + +"I think the sunshine is very pretty, sir." + +"Yes--I suppose you do--I have no doubt of it--everything is pretty, +of course,--Roundjacket!" + +"Well?" + +"Did you get exhibit 10?" + +"I did, sir," replied Roundjacket, sighting his ruler to see if it was +straight. "Have you had your breakfast, sir?" + +"Yes, sir; why did you ask?" + +"Oh, nothing--you know I thought you uncommonly amiable this morning." + +Mr. Rushton scowled, and the ghost of a smile passed over his rigid +lips. + +"I am nothing of the sort! I'm a perfect bear!" he growled. + +"Not inconsistent with my former observation that you were better than +usual," observed Roundjacket, with an agreeable smile. "I can prove to +you quite readily that--" + +"You are a ninny--I have no doubt of it--if I would listen to your +wretched jabber! Enough! if you talk any more I'll go home again. A +fine state of things, truly--that I am to have my mind dissipated when +I'm in working trim by the nonsense of a crack-brained poet!" + +Roundjacket's indignation at this unfeeling allusion to his great poem +was so intense, that for the moment he was completely deprived of +utterance. + +"And as for you, young man," said Mr. Rushton, smiling grimly at +Verty, "I suppose you are following the ordinary course of foolish +young men, and falling in love! Mark me, sir! the man that falls in +love makes a confounded fool of himself--you had better at once go +and hang yourself. Pretty people you are, with your 'eyes' and +'sighs'--your 'loves' and 'doves'--your moonlight, and flowers and +ecstacies! Avoid it, sir! it's like honey-water--it catches the legs +of flies like you, and holds you tight. Don't think you can take a +slight sip of the wine, sir, and there leave off--no, sir, you +don't leave off, you youngsters never do; you guzzle a gallon! The +consequence is intellectual drunkenness, and thus you make, as I said +before, confounded fools of yourselves! Bah! why am I wasting my +time!--a vast deal of influence we people who give good advice +possess! Young men will be fools to the end--go and see your +sweetheart!" + +And with a grim smile, the shaggy lawyer entered his sanctum, and +banged the door, just as Roundjacket, still irate about the slur +cast upon his poetry, had commenced reading in a loud voice the fine +introductory stanzas--his hair sticking up, his eyes rolling, +his ruler breaking the skulls of invisible foes. Alas for +Roundjacket!--nobody appreciated him, which is perhaps one of the most +disagreeable things in nature. Even Verty rose in a minute, and took +up his hat and rifle, as was his habit. + +Roundjacket rolled up his manuscript with a deep sigh, and restored it +to the desk. + +"Where are you going, young man?" he said. "But I know--and that is +your excuse for such shocking taste as you display. As for the within +bear," and Roundjacket pointed toward Mr. Rushton's apartment, "he is +unpardonable!" + +"Well, good-bye." + +These latter words were uttered as Verty went out, followed by +Longears, and closed the door of the office after him. + +He had scarcely heard or understood Mr. Rushton's extraordinary +speech: but had comprehended that he was free to go away, and in the +troubled state of his mind, this was a great boon. Yes! he would go +and suffer again in Redbud's presence--this time he would know whether +she really hated him. And then that passage in the letter! The thought +tore his heart. + +What could the reason for this dislike possibly be? Certainly not his +familiar ascent to her room, on the previous day. Could it have been +because she did not like him in his fine clothes? Was this latter +possible? It might be. + +"I'll go to Mr. O'Brallaghan's and get my old suit--he has not sent +them yet," said Verty, aloud; "then I'll go and see Redbud just as she +used to see me in old times, at Apple Orchard, when we were--ah!--so +happy!" + +The "ah" above, represents a very deep sigh, which issued from Verty's +breast, as he went along with the dignified Longears at his heels. +Longears never left his master, unless he was particularly attracted +by a small fight among some of his brethren, or was seized with +a desire to thrust his nostrils against some baby playing on the +sidewalk, (a ceremony which, we are sorry to say, he accompanied +with a sniff,) throwing the juvenile responsibility, thereby, into +convulsions, evidenced by yells. With these exceptions, Longears was +a well-behaved dog, and followed his master in a most "respectable" +manner. + +Verty arrived at the fluttering doorway of O'Brallaghan's shop, and +encountered the proprietor upon the threshold, who made him a low bow. +His errand was soon told, and O'Brallaghan entered into extensive +explanations and profuse apologies for the delay in sending home Mr. +Verty's suit left with him. It would have received "attinshun" that +very morning--it was in the back room. Would Mr. Verty "inter?" + +Verty entered accordingly, followed by the stately Longears, who +rubbed his nose against O'Brallaghan's stockings as he passed, +afterwards shaking his head, as if they were not to his taste. + +Verty found himself opposite to Mr. Jinks, who was driving his needle +as savagely as ever, and, with a tremendous frown, chaunting the then +popular ditty of the "Done-over Tailor." Whether this was in gloomy +satire upon his own occupation we cannot say, but certainly the lover +of the divine Miss Sallianna presented an appearance very different +from his former one, at the Bower of Nature. His expression was as +dignified and lofty as before; but as to costume, the least said about +Mr. Jinks the better. We may say, however, that it consisted mainly +of a pair of slippers and a nightcap, from the summit of which latter +article of clothing drooped a lengthy tassel. + +On Verty's entrance, Mr. Jinks started up with a terrific frown; +or rather, to more accurately describe the movement which he made, +uncoiled his legs, and raised his stooping shoulders. + +"How, sir!" he cried, "is my privacy again invaded!" + +"I came to get my clothes," said Verty, preoccupied with his own +thoughts, and very indifferent to the hero's ire. + +"That's no excuse, sir!" + +"Excuse?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir--I said excuse; this is my private apartment, and I have +told O'Brallaghan that it should not be invaded, sir!" + +These indignant words brought Mr. O'Brallaghan to the door, whereupon +Mr. Jinks repeated his former observation, and declared that it was an +outrage upon his dignity and his rights. + +O'Brallaghan displayed some choler at the tone which Mr. Jinks used, +and his Irish blood began to rise. He stated that Mr. Verty had come +for his clothes, and should have them. Mr. Jinks replied, that he +had'nt said anything about Mr. Verty; but was contending for a +principle. Mr. O'Brallaghan replied to this with an observation which +was lost in his neck-handkerchief, but judging from as much as was +audible, in defiance and contempt of Jinks. Jinks observed, with +dignity and severity, that there were customers in the store, who were +gazing at Mr. Verty, just as he was about to disrobe. O'Brallaghan +muttered thereupon to himself some hostile epithets, and hastily +returned to wait upon the customers, leaving Mr. Jinks dodging to +avoid the eyes of the new-comers, but still preserving an expression +of haughty scorn. + +Meanwhile Verty had descried his old forest suit lying upon a shelf, +and, laying down his rifle, had nearly indued his limbs therewith. In +fifteen minutes he had completed the change in his costume, and stood +before Mr. Jinks the same forest-hunter which he had been, before the +purchase of the elegant clothes he had just taken off. Instead of +rosetted shoes, moccasins; instead of silk and velvet, leather and +fur. On his head, his old white hat had taken the place of the +fashionable chapeau. Verty finished, by taking off the bow of ribbon +which secured his hair behind, and scattering the profuse curls over +his shoulders. + +"Now," he sighed, looking in a mirror which hung upon the wall, "I +feel more like myself." + +Jinks gazed at him with dignified emotion. + +"You return to the woods, sir," he said; "would that I could make up +my mind to follow your example. This man, O'Brallaghan, however--" + +And Mr. Jinks completed his sentence by savagely clipping a piece of +cloth with the huge shears he held, as though the enemy's neck were +between them. + +Verty scarcely observed this irate movement. + +"I'll leave the clothes here," he said; "I'm going now--good-bye." + +And taking up his rifle, the young man went out, followed by Longears, +who, to the last, bent his head over his shoulder, and gazed upon Mr. +Jinks with curiosity and interest. + +Jinks, with a savage look at O'Brallaghan, was about to return to his +work, when a letter, protruding from the pocket of the coat which +Verty had just taken off, attracted his attention, and he pounced upon +it without hesitation. + +Jinks had recognized the handwriting of Miss Sallianna in the address, +and in an instant determined to use no ceremony. + +He tore it open, and read, with savage scowls and horrible contortions +of the visage, that which follows. Unfortunate Jinks--reading private +letters is a hazardous proceeding: and this was what the hero read: + + "BOWER OF NATURE, + AT THE MATIN HOUR. + + "CHARMING, AND, ALAS! + TOO DANGEROUS YOUNG MAN: + +"Since seeing thee, on yester eve, my feelings have greatly changed in +intensity, and I fluctuate beneath an emotion of oblivious delight. +Alas! we young, weak women, try in vain to obstruct the gurgling of +the bosom; for I perceive that even I am not proof against the arrows +of the god Diana. My heart has thrilled, my dearest friend, ever since +you departed, yester eve, with a devious and intrinsic sensation of +voluminous delight. The feelings cannot be concealed, but must be +impressed in words; or, as the great Milton says, in his Bucoliks, +the o'er-fraught heart would break! Love, my dear Mr. Verty, is +contiguous--you cannot be near the beloved object without catching the +contagion, and to this fact I distribute that flame which now flickers +with intense conflagration in my bosom. Why, cruel member of the other +sex! did you evade the privacy of our innocent and nocturnal retreat, +turning the salubrious and maiden emotions of my bosom into agonizing +delight and repressible tribulation! Could you not practice upon +others the wiles of your intrinsic charms, and spare the weak +Sallianna, whose only desire was to contemplate the beauties of nature +in her calm retreat, where a small property sufficed for all her +mundane necessities? Alas! but yester morn I was cheerful and +invigorating--with a large criterion of animal spirits, and a bosom +which had never sighed responsible to the flattering vows of beaux. +But now!--ask me not how I feel, in thinking of _the person_ who has +touched my indurate heart. Need I say that the individual in question +has only to demand that heart, to have it detailed to him in all +its infantile simplicity and diurnal self-reliance? Do not--do +not--diffuse it! + +"I have, during the whole period of my mundane pre-existence, always +been troubled with beaux and admirers. I have, in vain, endeavored to +escape from their fascinating diplomas, but they have followed me, and +continued to prosecute me with their adorous intentions. None of +them could ever touch my fanciful disposition, which has exalted an +intrinsic and lofty beau--idle to itself. I always had to reply, when +they got down upon their knees to me, and squeezed my hands, that I +could not force my sensations; and though I should ever esteem them +as friends, I could not change my condition of maiden meditation and +exculpation for the agitation of matrimonial engagements. I need not +say that now my feelings have changed, and you, Mr. Verty, have become +the idle of my existence. You are yet young, but with a rare and +intrinsic power of intellect. In future, you will not pay any more +intention to that foolish little Reddy, who is very well in her way, +but unworthy of a great and opprobrious intelligence like yours. She +is a mere child, as I often tell her, and cannot love. + +"Come to your devoted Sallianna immediately, and let us discurse the +various harmonies of nature. I have given orders not to admit any +of my numerous beaux, especially that odious Mr. Jinks, who is my +abomination. I will tell Reddy that your visit is to me, and she will +not annoy you, especially as she is in love with a light young man who +comes to see Fanny, her cousin, Mr. Ashley. + +"Come to one who awaits thee, and who assigns herself + +"Your devoted, + +"SALLIANNA." + +Jinks frowned a terrible frown, and ground his teeth. + +For a moment, he stood gazing with profound contempt upon the +letter which he had just read; then seizing his shears, snipped the +unfortunate sheet into microscopic fragments, all the while frowning +with terrible intensity. + +The letter destroyed, Jinks stood for a moment with folded arms, +scowling and reflecting. + +Suddenly he strode to the other side of the room, kicking off his +slippers as he went, and hurling his night-cap at the mirror. + +"Yes!" he cried, grinding his teeth, "I'll do it, and without +delay--perfidious woman!" + +In ten minutes Mr. Jinks had assumed his usual fashionable costume, +and buckled on his sword. A savage flirt of his locks completed +his toilette, and in all the splendor of his scarlet stockings and +embroidered waistcoat, he issued forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +INTERCHANGE OF COMPLIMENTS. + + +O'Brallaghan, as he passed through the shop, requested to be informed +where Mr. Jinks was going. + +Jinks stopped, and scowled at Mr. O'Brallaghan, thereby intimating +that his, Jinks', private rights were insolently invaded by a coarse +interrogatory. + +O'Brallaghan observed, that if Mr. Jinks was laboring under the +impression that he, O'Brallaghan, was to be frowned down by an +individual of his description, he was greatly mistaken. And by way of +adding to the force of this observation, Mr. O'Brallaghan corrugated +his forehead in imitation of his adversary. + +Jinks replied, that he was equally indifferent to the scowls of Mr. +O'Brallaghan, and expressed his astonishment and disgust at being +annoyed, when he was going out to take some exercise for the benefit +of his health. + +O'Brallaghan informed Mr. Jinks that the going out had nothing to do +with it, and that he, Jinks, knew very well that he, O'Brallaghan, +objected to nothing but the tone assumed toward himself by the said +Jinks, whose airs were not to be endured, and, in future, would not +be, by him. If this was not satisfactory, he, the said Jinks, might +take the law of him, or come out and have it decided with shillalies, +either of which courses were perfectly agreeable to him, O'Brallaghan. + +Whereupon, Jinks expanded his nostril, and said that gentlemen did not +use the vulgar Irish weapon indicated. + +To which O'Brallaghan replied, that the circumstance in question would +not prevent Mr. Jinks' using the weapon. + +A pause followed these words, broken in a moment, however, by Mr. +Jinks, who stated that Mr. O'Brallaghan was a caitiff. + +O'Brallaghan, growing very red in the face, observed that Mr. Jinks +owed his paternity to a "gun." + +Jinks, becoming enraged thereupon, drew his sword, and declared his +immediate intention of ridding the earth of a scoundrel and a villain. + +Which intention, however, was not then carried into execution, owing +to the timely arrival of a red-faced, though rather handsome Irish +lady of twenty-five or thirty, who, in the broadest Celtic, commanded +the peace, and threatened the combatants with a hot flat-iron, which +she brandished in her stalwart fist. + +O'Brallaghan laid down the stick which he had seized, and ogled the +lady, declaring in words that the wish of mistress O'Callighan was +law to him, and that further, he had no desire to fight with the +individual before him, who had been making use of abusive and +threatening language, and had even drawn his skewer. + +Jinks stated that he would have no more altercation with an individual +of Mr. O'Brallaghan's standing in society--he would not demean +himself--and from that moment shook the dust of his, O'Brallaghan's, +establishment from his, Jinks', feet. Which declaration was +accompanied with a savage kick upon the door. + +O'Brallaghan congratulated himself upon the extreme good fortune for +himself involved in Mr. Jinks' decision, and hoped he would carefully +observe the friendly and considerate advice he now gave him, which +was, never to show his nose in the shop again during the period of his +mundane existence. + +Whereupon Jinks, annihilating his adversary with a terrific frown, +stated his intention to implicitly observe the counsel given him, and +further, to have revenge. + +In which O'Brallaghan cheerfully acquiesced, observing that the +importance attached by himself to the threats of Mr. Jinks was exactly +commensurate with the terror which would be caused him by the kick of +a flea. + +And so, with mutual and terrible frowns, this alarming interview +terminated: Mr. Jinks grimacing as he departed with awful menace, and +getting his grasshopper legs entangled in his sword; Mr. O'Brallaghan +remaining behind, though not behind the counter, paying devoted +attention to the ruddy and handsome lady with the hot flat-iron, +Mistress Judith O'Callighan, who watched the retreating Jinks with +tender melancholy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +WHAT OCCURRED AT BOUSCH'S TAVERN. + + +Let us follow Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman went on his way, reflecting upon the step which he +had just taken, and revolving in his mind the course which he should +pursue in future. + +The result of his reflections was, that a matrimonial engagement would +just answer his purpose, especially with a lady possessing a "small +property--" at which words, as they left his muttering lips, Jinks +frowned. + +It was Miss Sallianna's favorite phrase. + +Miss Sallianna! + +The tumult which arose in Jinks' breast upon the thought of that young +lady's treachery toward himself occurred to him, may, as our brother +historians are fond of saying, "be better imagined than described." +Before, Jinks' brows were corrugated into a frown; now, however, two +mountain ridges, enclosing a deep valley, extended from the upper +portion of the bridge of the Jinks nose to the middle of the Jinks +forehead. + +The despairing lover resembled an ogre who had not dined for two whole +days, and was ready to devour the first comer. + +What should he do? Take revenge, or marry the perfidious woman? Jinks +did not doubt his ability to perform the latter; and thus he went on +his way in doubt and wrath. + +At least he would go that very morning and charge her with perfidy; +and so having decided upon his course so far, he strode on rapidly. + +Mr. Jinks bent his course toward Bousch's tavern, where he proposed to +take up his temporary residence. + +Since this house has become historical, let us say a word of it. It +was one of those old wooden "ordinaries" of Virginia, which are now +never seen in towns of any size, crouching only on the road-side or in +obscure nooks, where the past lives still. It was a building of large +size, though but two stories in height, and even then presented an +ancient appearance, with its low eaves, small-paned windows, and stone +slab before the door. Behind it was an old garden, and near at hand, +two ponderous valves opened upon a large stable-yard full of bustling +hostlers. + +The neighborhood in which this ancient dwelling stood was not without +a certain picturesqueness, thanks to the old, low-eaved houses, dating +from the French-Indian wars, and grassy knolls, from which quarries of +limestone stood out boldly; above all, because of the limpid stream, +which, flowing from the west just by the portico of the old tavern, +murmured gaily in the traveller's ear, and leaped toward him as he +crossed it, or allowed his weary animal to bathe his nostrils in the +cool water. Two or three majestic weeping-willows plunged their broad +trunks and vigorous roots into the clear stream, and sighed forever +over it, as, passing onward, it ran away from the Bousch hostelry +toward its ocean, the Opequon. + +This old tavern, which exists still, we believe, a venerable relic +of the border past, was, in the year 1777, the abode of a "number of +Quakers, together with one druggist and a dancing-master, sent +to Winchester under guard, with a request from the Executive of +Pennsylvania, directed to the County-Lieutenant of Frederick, to +secure them." The reasons for this arrest and exile may be found in +a Congressional report upon the subject, (Anno. 1776,) which states, +that well-attested facts "rendered it certain and notorious that those +persons were, with much rancour and bitterness, disaffected to the +American cause;"--for which reason they were requested to go and +remain in durance at Winchester, in Virginia. How they protested at +Philadelphia against being taken into custody--protested again at the +Pennsylvania line against being carried out of that state--protested +again at the Maryland line against being taken into Virginia--and +ended by protesting at Winchester against everything in general--it is +all written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Valley of Virginia, +by Mr. Samuel Kercheval, and also in an interesting Philadelphia +publication, "Friends in Exile." To this day the old sun-dial in the +garden of "Bousch's Tavern" has upon it the inscription: + +"_Exul patria causâ libertates_" with the names of the unfortunate +exiles written under it--always provided that the dial itself remains, +and the rain, and snow, and sun, have not blotted out the words. That +they were there, the present chronicler knows upon good authority. +How the exiles passed their time at Winchester, and finally returned, +will, some day, be embodied in authentic history. + +It was many years after the quaker inroad; in fact the eighteenth +century, with all its philosophical, political, and scientific +"protests" everywhere, was nearly dead and gone, when another scene +occurred at Bousch's tavern, which history knows something of. As that +august muse, however, does not bury herself with personal details, we +will briefly refer to this occurrence. + +It was about mid-day, then, when a carriage, with travelling trunks +behind it, and a white, foreign-looking driver and footman on the seat +before, drew rein in front of the old hostelry we have described. + +The footman descended from his perch, and approaching the door of +the carriage, opened it, and respectfully assisted two gentlemen to +alight. These gentlemen were dressed with elegant simplicity. + +The first had an oval face, which was full of good-humor, and in +which an imaginative eye might have discerned an odd resemblance to a +_pear_; the second, who seemed to be his brother, was more sedate, and +did not smile. + +The gentlemen entered the inn, and asked if dinner could be furnished. +The landlord replied that nothing could be easier, and called their +attention to a noise which issued from the next room. + +The elder gentleman, whose accent had indicated his foreign origin, +approached the door which led into the dining-room, followed by his +companion. + +They looked in. + +A long table, covered with a profusion of everything which the most +robust appetite could desire, was filled with ploughmen, rough +farmers, hunters from the neighboring hills, and a nondescript class, +which were neither farmers, ploughmen, nor hunters, but made their +living by conveying huge teams from town to town. They were travelling +merchants--not wagoners simply, as might have been supposed from their +garments full of straw, and the huge whips which lay beside them on +the floor. When they chewed their food, these worthies resembled +horses masticating ears of corn; when they laughed, they made the +windows rattle. + +The good-humored traveller shook his head; over the face of his +companion passed a disdainful smile, which did not escape the +landlord. + +As the elder turned round, he observed his servant inscribing their +names in the tavern-book. He would have stopped him, but he had +already written the names. + +He thereupon turned to the landlord. + +Could they not have a private room? + +Hum!--it was contrary to rule. + +They wanted to dine. + +Could they not make up their minds to join the company? + +The younger traveller could not, and would not--a room. + +The landlord assumed a dogged expression, and replied that he made no +distinction among his guests. What was good enough for one was good +enough for all. + +Then, the young traveller said, he would not stay in such a place. + +The host replied, that he might go and welcome--the sooner the +better--he wanted no lofty foreign gentlemen with their airs, etc. + +The two gentlemen bowed with grave politeness, and made a sign to +their servants, who came forward, looking with terrible frowns at +Boniface. + +Prepare the carriage to set out again--they would not dine there. + +How Monseigneur would go on in spite of-- + +Enough--Monseigneur would consult them when it was necessary. Harness +the horses again. + +The result of which command was, that in ten minutes the two gentlemen +were again upon the road. + +The landlord watched them, with a frown, as they departed. He then +bethought him of the book where the servant had inscribed their names, +and opened it. On the page was written: + + "MR. LOUIS PHILLIPPE, + "MR. MONTPENSIER, + PARIS." + +The landlord had driven from his establishment the future king of the +French, and his brother, because they wanted a private apartment to +dine in. + +The common version that the Duke was personally assaulted, and turned +out, is a mere fiction--our own account is the proper and true one. + +So Bousch's Tavern was only fated to be historical, when Mr. Jinks +approached it--that character having not yet been attached to it. +Whether the absence of such associations affected the larder in Mr. +Jinks' opinion, we cannot say--probably not, however. + +Certain is it that Jinks entered with dignity, and accosted the fat, +ruddy, German landlord, Mr. Bousch, and proceeding to do what a +quarter of a century afterwards a Duke imitated him in, asked for a +private chamber. Mr. Bousch seemed to see nothing improper in this +request, and even smiled an assent when Jinks, still scowling, +requested that a measure of Jamaica rum might be dispatched before +him, to his chamber. + +Jinks then strolled out to the pathway before the tavern, and looked +around him. + +Suddenly there came out of the stable yard a young man, mounted on a +shaggy horse, which young man was clad in a forest costume, and held a +rifle in his hand. + +Jinks directed a terrible glance toward him, and started forward. + +As the horseman came out of the gateway, he found the road obstructed +by Mr. Jinks, whose drawn sword was in his hand. + +"Back! rash youth!" cried Jinks, with terrible emphasis, "or this +sword shall split thy carcass--back!" + +And the speaker flashed the sword so near to Cloud's eyes that he +tossed up his head and nearly reared. + +Verty had been gazing at the sky, and was scarcely conscious of Mr. +Jinks' presence;--but the movement made by Cloud aroused him. He +looked at the sword wonderingly. + +"Stand back!" cried Jinks, "or thou art dead, young man! Turn your +horse into that receptacle of animals again, and go not toward the +Bower of Nature!" + +"Anan?" said the young man, calmly. + +"So you pretend not to understand, do you! Vile caitiff! advance +one step at your peril--try to go and complete arrangements for a +matrimonial engagement at the Bower of Nature, and thou diest!" + +Verty was getting angry. + +"Mr. Jinks, you'd better get out of the way," he said, calmly. + +"Never! stand back! Attempt to push your animal toward me, and I +slaughter him. Base caitiff! Know that the rival you have yonder is +myself! Know that she loves you not, and is now laughing at you, +however much she may have made you believe she loved you! She is a +wretch!" + +Verty thought Mr. Jinks spoke of Redbud--the dominant idea again--and +frowned. + +"Yes! a perfidious, unfeeling traitoress," observed Mr. Jinks, +grimacing terribly; "and if thou makest a single step toward her, I +will spit thee on my sword!" + +Verty cocked his rifle, and placing the muzzle thereof on the Jinks' +breast, made a silent movement of his head, to the effect, that Mr. +Jinks would consult his personal safety by ceasing to obstruct the +way. + +Jinks no sooner heard the click of the trigger, and saw the murderous +muzzle directed towards his breast, than letting his sword fall, he +started back with a horrified expression, crying, "murder!" with all +the strength of his lungs; and even in his terror and excitement +varied this expression by giving the alarm of "fire!"--for what +reason, he always declined to explain, even to his most intimate +friends. + +Verty did not even smile, though he remained for a moment motionless, +looking at Mr. Jinks. + +Then touching Cloud with his heel, he set forward again, followed by +the dignified Longears. As for Longears, we regret to say, that, on +the occasion in question, he did not comport himself with that high +decorum and stately courtesy which were such distinguishing traits +in his elevated character. His mouth slowly opened--his lips curled +around his long, white teeth, and his visage was shaken with a +nervous tremor, as, looking over his shoulder, he went on in Cloud's +footsteps. Longears was laughing--positively laughing--at Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman ceased crying "fire!" and "murder!" as soon as he came +to the conclusion that there was no danger from the one or the other. +He picked up his sword, looked around him cautiously, and seeing that +no one had observed his flight, immediately assumed his habitual air +of warlike dignity, and extended his hand--which held the hilt of his +undrawn sword--toward Verty. This gesture was so tragic, and replete +with such kingly ferocity, that Mr. Jinks was plainly devoting Verty +to the infernal gods; and the curses trembling on his lips confirmed +this idea. + +He was standing in this melo-dramatic attitude, gazing after the +Indian, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and heard a jovial +voice say, "How are you, Jinks, my boy! What's the fun?" + +The voice was that of Mr. Ralph Ashley. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +MR. JINKS ON HORSE-BACK, GOING TO TAKE REVENGE. + + +Jinks remained silent a moment. Standing face to face, the two +personages surveyed each other in silence--the one laughing, joyous, +ready for any amusement which would be so obliging as to turn up; +the other stately, warlike, and breathing terrible and malignant +vengeance. + +Ralph laughed. + +"I say, old fellow, what's the matter?" he asked; "you look decidedly +blood-thirsty." + +"I am, sir!" + +"By Jove! I don't doubt it: you resemble Achilles, when he and +Agamemnon had their miff. What's the odds?" + +"I have been insulted, sir!" + +"Insulted?" + +"And tricked!" + +"Impossible." + +Jinks remained silent for a moment, looking after Verty. + +"Yes," he said, with an awful scowl, "that young man has robbed me of +my mistress--" + +"Who--Verty?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Ralph burst out laughing. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Jinks, with dignity. + +"At your falling in love with Redbud Summers." + +"I am not, sir; perhaps in light moments I may have made that youthful +damsel a few gallant speeches; but I did not refer to her, sir." + +"To whom, then?" + +"To the perfidious Sallianna." + +"Oh!" cried Ralph, restraining his laughter by a powerful effort. + +"What surprises you, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +"You laugh." + +"Can't help it. The idea of your thinking Verty your rival in the +affections of Miss Sallianna! Jinks, my boy, you are blinded with +love--open your eyes, and don't think you can see while they are +closed. I tell you, Verty is in love with Redbud--I know it, sir. Or, +if he is not with Redbud, it's Fanny. No, I don't think it is Fanny," +murmured Ralph, with a thoughtful expression; "I think I'm safe there. +A dangerous rival!" + +And Ralph smiled at his own thoughts. + +"What did you say, sir?" asked Jinks, frowning in the direction of the +Bower of Nature. + +"Nothing, my boy; but I say, Jinks, what makes you look so fierce? You +resemble an ogre--you're not going to eat Mr. Verty?" + +"No, sir; but I'm going to call him to account. If he is not my rival, +he has stood in my way." + +"How!" + +"The perfidious Sallianna has fallen in love with him!" + +And Jinks groaned. + +Ralph took his arm with a sympathizing expression, and restraining a +violent burst of laughter, said: + +"Is it possible! But I knew something must have happened to make you +so angry." + +"Say furious!" + +"Are you furious?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Come, now, I'll bet a pistole to a penny that you are revengeful in +your present feelings. + +"I am, sir!" + +"What can you do?" + +"I can defy my enemy." + +"Oh, yes! I really forgot that; I must be present, recollect, at the +encounter." + +"You may, sir! I shall spit him upon my sword!" + +And Jinks, with a terrible gesture, transfixed imaginary enemies +against the atmosphere. + +Ralph choked as he gazed at Mr. Jinks, and shaking with pent up +laughter: + +"Can't you find something, Jinks, for me to do?" he said, "this affair +promises to be interesting." + +"You may carry the challenge I propose writing, if you will, sir." + +"If I will! as if I would not do ten times as much for my dear friend +Jinks." + +"Thanks, sir." + +"Promise me one thing, however." + +"What is it, sir?" + +"To be cool." + +"I am cool--I'll throttle her!" + +"Throttle!" + +"Yes, sir; annihilate her!" + +"Her!" + +"Yes, the treacherous Sallianna. She has made me wretched +forever--lacerated my existence, and I am furious, sir; I do not deny +it." + +"Furious?" + +"Yes, sir; furious, and I have reason to be, sir. I am ferocious, sir; +I am overwhelmed with rage!" + +And Jinks ground his teeth. + +"What, at a woman?" + +"At a perfidious woman." + +"Fie, Jinks! is it credible that a man of your sense should pay the +sex so high a compliment?" + +This view seemed to strike Mr. Jinks, and clearing his throat: + +"Hum--ah--well," he said, "the fact is, sir, my feeling is rather one +of contempt than anger. But other things have occurred this morning to +worry me." + +"What?" + +Jinks circumstantially detailed his interview with O'Brallaghan, +adding the somewhat imaginary incident of the loss of O'Brallaghan's +left ear by a sweep of his, Jinks', sword. + +"What! you cut off his ear!" cried Ralph. + +"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Jinks, "close to the caitiff's head!" + +"Jinks! I admire you!" + +"It was nothing--nothing, sir!" + +"Yes it was. It equals the most splendid achievements of antiquity." + +And Ralph chuckled. + +"He deserved it, sir," said Mr. Jinks, with modest dignity. + +"Yes--you had your revenge." + +"I will have more." + +"Why, are you not satisfied?" + +"No!" + +"You will still pursue with your dreadful enmity the unfortunate +O'Brallaghan?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Well, I'll assist you." + +"It is my own quarrel. The house of Jinks, sir, can right its own +wrongs." + +"No doubt; but remember one circumstance. I myself hate O'Brallaghan +with undying enmity." + +"How is that, sir?" + +"Can't you guess?" + +"No." + +"Why, he had the audacity to sell my plum-colored coat and and the +rest of my suit to this Mr. Verty." + +"Oh--yes." + +"Abominable conduct! only because I did not call at the very moment to +try on the suit. He would 'make me another,' forsooth, 'in the twinkle +of an eye;' and then he began to pour out his disagreeable blarney. +Odious fellow!" + +And Ralph turned aside his head to laugh. + +"Leave him to me," said Mr. Jinks, arranging his sword with grace and +dignity at his side; "if you wish to assist me, however, you may, sir. +Let us now enter this tavern, and partake of rum and crackers." + +"By all means--there is just time." + +"How, sir?" asked Mr. Jinks, as they moved toward the tavern. + +"I have just ordered my horse." + +"To ride?" + +"Yes." + +Jinks sighed. + +"I must purchase a steed myself," he said. + +"Yes?" rejoined Ralph. + +"Yes. To make my visit to the perfidious Sallianna." + +Ralph laughed. + +"I thought you had abandoned her?" + +"Never!" + +"You wish to go and see her?" + +"I will go this day!" + +"Good! take half of my horse." + +"Half?" + +"Ride behind." + +"Hum!" + +"Come, my dear fellow, don't be bashful. He's a beautiful steed--look +there, through the window." + +"I see him--but think of the figure we would cut." + +"Two sons of Aymon!" laughed Ralph. + +"I understand: of Jupiter Ammon," said Jinks; "but my legs, sir--my +legs?" + +"What of 'em?" + +"They require stirrups." + +"All fancy--your legs, my dear Jinks, are charming. I consider them +the chief ornament you possess." + +"Really, you begin to persuade me," observed Mr. Jinks, becoming +gradually tractable under the effect of the rum which he had been +sipping for some minutes, and gazing complacently at his grasshopper +continuations in their scarlet stockings. + +"Of course," Ralph replied, "so let us set out at once." + +"Yes, yes! revenge at once!" + +And the great Jinks wiped his mouth with the back of his +hands;--brought his sword-belt into position, and assuming a manner of +mingled dignity and ferocity, issued forth with Ralph. + +The latter gentleman, laughing guardedly, mounted into the saddle, and +then rode to the spot at which Jinks awaited him. + +"Come," he said, "there's no time to be lost;--recollect, your rival +has gone before!" + +The thought inspired Mr. Jinks with supernatural activity, and making +a leap, he lit, so to speak, behind Ralph, much after the fashion of a +monkey falling on the bough of a cocoanut tree. + +The leap, however, had been somewhat too vigorous, and Mr. Jinks found +one of his grasshopper legs under the animal; while the other extended +itself at right-angles, in a horizontal position, to the astonishment +of the hostler standing by. + +"All right!" cried Ralph, with a roar of laughter. + +And setting spur to the terrified animal, he darted from the door, +followed by general laughter and applause, with which the clattering +of Mr. Jinks' sword, and the cries he uttered, mingled pleasantly. +This was the manner in which Jinks set out for revenge. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +AN OLD BIBLE. + + +On the morning of the day upon which the events we have just related +occurred, little Redbud was sitting at her window, reading by the red +light of sunrise. + +If anything is beautiful in this world, assuredly it is the fresh, +innocent face of a child, flooded with the deep gold of sunrise, and +with cheeks still bathed in the delicate rose-bloom of slumber. + +Morning and childhood go together, as all things pure, and fresh, and +tender do; and in the face of the child, sitting there in the quiet +morning, an imaginative mind might have discerned, without difficulty, +more than one point of resemblance. The dews sparkling like diamonds +on the emerald grasses, were not brighter or fresher than her +eyes;--the merry breeze might have been gayer, but had not half as +much thoughtful joy and tenderness as her gentle laugh;--the rosy +flush of morning, with all its golden splendor, as of fair Aurora +rising to her throne, was not more fair than the delicate cheek. + +In a single word, Miss Redbud--about whom we always grow +extravagant--was a worthy portion of the bright, fresh morning; and +the hardest-hearted individual who ever laughed at childhood, and +innocence and joy, (and there are some, God help them,) would have +thought the place and time more cheerful and inspiring for her +presence. + +Redbud had been reading from a book which lay upon the window-sill. +The idle breeze turned over the leaves carelessly as though, like a +child, it were looking for pictures; and the words, "From dear Mamma," +were seen upon the fly-leaf--in the rough uncouth characters of +childhood. + +This was Redbud's Bible--and she had been reading it; and had raised +her happy eyes from the black heavy letters, to the waving variegated +trees and the bright sunrise, overwhelming them with its flush of +gold. Redbud was clad, as usual, very simply--her hair brushed back, +and secured, after the fashion of the time, with a bow of ribbon--her +arms bare to the elbow, with heavy falling sleeves--her neck +surrounded with a simple line of lace. Around her neck she wore the +coral necklace we have seen her purchase. + +The girl gazed for some moments at the crimson and yellow trees, on +which a murmurous laughter of mocking winds arose, at times, and +rustled on, and died away into the psithurisma of Theocritus; and the +songs of the oriole and mocking-bird fluttering among the ripe fruit, +or waving up into the sky, brought a pleasant smile to her lips. The +lark, too, was pouring from the clouds, where he circled and flickered +like a ball of light, the glory of his song; and from an old, dead +oak, which raised its straight trunk just without the garden, came +the quick rattle of the woodpecker's bill, or the scream of that +red-winged drummer, as he darted off, playing and screaming, with his +fellows. + +Beyond the garden all the noble autumn forests waved away in magic +splendor--red, and blue, and golden. The oaks were beautiful with +their waving leaves--the little alder tree exquisite in its faint +saffron--the tall, tapering pines rose from the surrounding foliage +like straight spears, which had caught on their summits royal robes +of emerald velvet, green at first, but, when the red light fell upon +them, turning to imperial purple, as of old, Emperors of Rome! + +All these sights and sounds were pleasant things to Redbud, and she +gazed and listened to them with a species of tranquil pleasure, which +made her tender face very beautiful. At last her eyes returned to her +old Bible, and she began to read again from the sacred book. + +She turned the leaf, and came to a passage around which faint lines +were traced in faded ink;--the words thus marked were those of St. +Paul, so sublime in their simplicity, so grand in their quiet majesty: + +"Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ." + +These words had been marked by Redbud's mother, and as the child gazed +upon the faded ink, and thought of the dear hand which had rested upon +the page, a tender regret betrayed itself in her veiled eyes, and her +lips murmured, wistfully, "Mamma." Her down-cast eyes were veiled by +the long lashes; and the child's thoughts went back to the old happy +days, when her mother had taught her to pray, joining her infant +hands, and telling her about God and all his goodness. + +It was not grief which the child felt, as her mental glance thus went +backward to the time when her mother was alive;--rather a tender joy, +full of pure love, and so far separated from the world, or the things +of the world, that her face grew holy, as if a light from heaven +streamed upon it. Oh, yes! she needed no one to tell her that her dear +mother's desire had been fulfilled--that she was with Christ; and her +heart rose in prayer to the Giver of all good, to bless and purify +her, and give her power to conquer all her evil thoughts--and passing +through the toils and temptations of the world, come finally to that +happy land where her dear mother lived and loved--from which she +looked upon her child. She prayed to be kept thus pure; for strength +to resist her sinful inclinations, ill-temper, discontent and +uncharitable thoughts; for power to divorce her thoughts from the +world, spite of its sunshine, and bright flowers and attractions--to +feel that holy desire to be with the dear Savior who had died for her. + +The child rose with a countenance that was sacred for its purity, and +hopefulness, and trust. She gazed again upon the brilliant morning +land, and listened to the birds, and smiled--for in the sunlight, and +the carol of the bright-winged oriole, and every murmur of the merry +wind, she felt the presence of a loving and All-merciful Creator, who +would bless her, if she loved and obeyed Him. + +And so the tender eyes again beamed with the unclouded light of +childhood, and the lips were again calm and happy. The child had +sought for peace and joy from the great central source, and found it. +Everything was now delightful--all the clouds had passed--and a bright +smile illumined her fresh face, and made the sunlight envious, as it +poured its fresh golden radiance upon her brow and cheek. + +Redbud had just closed her Bible, and was about to put it away upon +the shelf, when a light step was heard in the room, and a laughing +voice cried, "Well, miss!" and two white arms encircled her neck, two +red lips imprinted a kiss upon her cheek. + +The arms and the lips belonged to Fanny. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +FANNY'S VIEWS UPON HERALDRY. + + +Fanny was overflowing with laughter, and her face was the perfection +of glee. Her dark eyes fairly danced, and the profuse black curls +which rippled around her face, were never still for a moment. + +In her hand Miss Fanny carried a wreath of primroses and other +children of the autumn, which spread around them as she came a faint +perfume. From the appearance of the young lady's feet, it seemed that +she had gathered them herself. Her shoes and ankles, with their white +stockings, were saturated with the dews of morning. + +After imprinting upon Miss Redbud's cheek the kiss which we have +chronicled, Fanny gaily raised the yellow wreath, and deposited it +upon the young girl's head. + +"There, Redbud!" she cried, "I declare, you look prettier than ever!" + +Redbud smiled, with an affectionate glance at her friend. + +"Oh!" cried the impulsive Fanny, "there you are, laughing at me, as +much as to say that you are not pretty! Affected!" + +"Oh, no," said Redbud. + +"Well, I don't say you are." + +"I don't like affectation." + +"Nor I," said Fanny; "but really, Reddy, I had no idea that yellow was +so becoming to you." + +"Why?" asked Redbud, smiling. + +"You are blonde, you know." + +"Well." + +"I wonder if blonde don't mean yellow," said the philosophic Fanny. + +"Does it?" + +"Yes." + +"What then?" + +"Why, of course, I thought yellow primroses would'nt become you;--now +they would suit me--I'm so dark." + +"You do not need them." + +"Fie--Miss Flatterer." + +"Oh, no, Fanny, I never flatter." + +"Well, I'm glad you like me, then!" cried Fanny, "for I declare +I'm desperately in love with you, Reddy. Just think, now, how much +flattered Miss Sallianna would have been if I had carried these +flowers to her--you know she loves the 'beauties of nature.'" + +And Miss Fanny assumed a languishing air, and inclining her head upon +one shoulder, raised her eyes lackadaisically toward the ceiling, in +imitation of Miss Sallianna. + +"No, Fanny!" said Redbud, "that is not right." + +"What?" + +"Mimicking Miss Sallianna." + +"Not right!" + +"No, indeed." + +"Well, I suppose it is not, and I have been treating her very badly. +Suppose I take your wreath of yellow primroses and carry them to her." + +"Oh, yes--if you want to," said Redbud, looking regretfully at the +wreath, which she had taken from her brow. + +Fanny laughed. + +"No, I will not," she said; "I have a good reason." + +"What?" + +"The axiom in heraldry." + +"What axiom?" + +"Never put color upon color--yellow upon yellow in this instance!" + +And Miss Fanny burst into laughter, and fairly shook with glee. + +Redbud gave her a little reproachful glance, which showed Fanny the +uncharitable nature of her observation. + +"Well," said the owner of the soiled ankles, "I ought not to have +said that; but really, she is so ridiculous! She thinks she's the +handsomest person in the world, and I do believe she wants to rob us +of our beaux." + +Redbud smiled, and lightly colored. + +"I mean Verty and Ralph," Fanny went on, "and I know something is +going on. Miss Sallianna is always in love with somebody; it was Mr. +Jinks the other day, and now I think it is one of our two visitors." + +"Oh, Fanny!" + +"Yes, I do! you need'nt look so incredulous--I believe she would +flirt with either of them, and make love to them; which," added the +philosophic Fanny, "is only another phrase for the same thing." + +Redbud remained for a moment confused, and avoiding Fanny's glance. +Then her innocent and simple smile returned, and leaning her arm +affectionately upon the young girl's shoulder, she said, seriously: + +"Fanny, please don't talk in that way. You know Verty is not an +ordinary young gentleman--" + +"Oh, no--!" cried Fanny, laughing. + +"I mean," Redbud went on, with a slight color in her cheek, "I mean, +to amuse himself with compliments and pretty speeches--if Miss +Sallianna thinks he is, she is mistaken." + +"Odious old thing!--to be flirting with all the young men who come to +see _us_!" said Fanny. + +"No, no," Redbud went on, "I think you are mistaken. But as you have +mentioned Verty, please promise me one thing, Fanny." + +"Promise! certainly, Reddy; just ask me whatever you choose. If it's +to cut off my head, or say I think Miss Sallianna pretty, I'll do +it--such is my devotion to you!" laughed Fanny. + +Redbud smiled. + +"Only promise me to amuse Verty, when he comes." + +"Amuse him!" + +"Yes." + +"What do you mean." + +"I mean," Redbud said, sighing, "that I don't think I shall be able to +do so." + +"What!" + +"Fanny, you cannot understand," said the young girl, with a slight +blush; "I hope, if you are my real friend, as you say, that you will +talk with Verty, when he comes, and make his time pass agreeably." + +Redbud's head sank. + +Fanny gazed at her for a moment in silence, and with a puzzled +expression, said: + +"What has happened, Reddy, between you and Verty--anything?" + +"Oh, no." + +"You are blushing! Something must have happened." + +"Fanny--" murmured Redbud, and then stopped. + +"Have you quarreled? You would'nt explain that scene in the parlor the +other day, when I made him tie my shoe. You have quarreled!" + +"Oh, no--no!" + +"I'm glad to hear it," cried Fanny, "though I could easily have made it +up. I would have gone to Mr. Verty, and told him that he was a wretch, +or something of that sort, and made him come and be friends again." + +Redbud smiled, and said: + +"We have not quarreled; but I don't think I shall be able to amuse +him very much, if he comes this morning, as I think he will. Please +promise me--I don't like Verty to be unhappy." + +And the ingenuous face of the young girl was covered with blushes. + +"I suppose not!--you and Verty are very good friends!" cried Fanny, +looking out of the window, and not observing Redbud's confusion; "but +suppose _my_ cavalier comes--what then, madam?" + +"Oh, then I absolve you." + +"No, indeed!" + +"'No, indeed' what?" + +"I won't be absolved." + +"Why?" + +"Because I don't know but I prefer Mr. Verty to that conceited cousin +of mine." + +"What cousin--not Ralph?" + +"Yes; I don't fancy him much." + +"I thought you were great favorites of each other." + +"You are mistaken!" said Fanny, coloring; "I did like him once, but he +has come back from college at Williamsburg a perfect coxcomb, the most +conceited fop I ever saw." + +"Oh, Fanny!" + +"Yes, indeed he has!" + +And Miss Fanny blushed. + +"I hate him!" she added, with a pout; then bursting into a fit of +laughter, this young lady added: + +"Oh! he promised to bring his album to-day, and show me all the 'good +wishes' his friends wrote in it for him. Won't that be funny! Just +think of finding out how those odious young college geese talk and +feel toward each other." + +Redbud smiled at Miss Fanny's consistency, and was about to reply, +when the bell for prayers rang. + +The two young girls rose, and smoothing their hair slowly, descended, +arm in arm, and still conversing, to the dining-room, where old +Scowley, as Verty called her, and Miss Sallianna, awaited them, in +state, with their scholars. + +Prayer was succeeded by breakfast; and then--the young damsels having +eaten with the most unromantic heartiness--the whole school scattered: +some to walk toward "town;" others to stroll by the brook, at the foot +of the hill; others again to write letters home. + +As Miss Sallianna had informed Verty, that day was a holiday, +and young ladies going to school have, in all ages of the world, +appreciated the beauties and attractions of this word, and what it +represents--recreation, that is to say. + +Redbud and Fanny strolled out in the garden with their arms locked as +before, and the merry autumn sunshine streaming on them. + +They had a thousand things to talk about, and we may be sure that they +did not neglect the opportunity. What do _not_ young ladies at school +discuss? Scarcely anything escapes, and these criticisms are often +very trenchant and severe. + +How they criticise the matrimonial alliance between aged Dives with +his crutch and money-bags, and the fascinating and artless Miss Sans +Avoir, who dedicates her life to making happy the old gentleman! + +How gaily do they pull in pieces the beautiful natural curls of Mr. +Adonis, who purchased them at the perruquier's; and how they scalp +Miss Summer Morning, with her smiles and bright-eyed kindness, in the +presence of gentlemen--while behind the scenes she is a mixture of the +tigress and the asp! All these social anomalies do young ladies at +school talk about--as do those who have left school also. + +But Redbud and Fanny did not--they were far too good-natured to take +pleasure in such comments, and instead, spent the hours in laughing, +playing and reading in the pleasant arbor. Thus the morning drew on, +and the lovely autumn day sailed past with all its life and splendor +toward the west. Fanny was gazing toward the house, as they thus sat +in the arbor, and Redbud was smiling, when a gentleman, clothed in a +forest costume, and carrying a rifle, made his appearance at the door +of the Bower of Nature. + +"Oh, Reddy!" cried Fanny, "there's your friend, Verty; and look what a +fright he is!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +HOW MISS SALLIANNA ALLUDED TO VIPERS, AND FELL INTO HYSTERICS. + + +Verty paused upon the threshold of the mansion to push back his long, +curling hair; and with a glance behind him, toward Cloud, meant as +a caution to that intelligent animal and to Longears, deposited his +rifle against the door. + +The young man, as we have said, had once more donned his rude forest +costume; and even at the risk of appearing to undervalue the graces +and attractions of civilization with the costume, which is a necessary +part thereof, we must say that the change was an improvement. +Verty's figure, in the dress which he generally wore, was full +of picturesqueness and wild interest. He looked like a youthful +Leather-stocking; and seemed to be a part of the forest in which he +lived, and from which he came. + +He had been cramped in the rich clothes; and the consciousness of this +feeling, so to speak, had made his manner stiff and unnatural; now, +however, he was forest Verty again. His long hair had already become +tangled, thanks to the autumn winds, and the gallop to which he had +pushed Cloud;--his person assumed its habitual attitude of wild grace; +his eye no longer restless and troubled, had recovered its expression +of dreamy mobility, and his lips were wreathed with the odd Indian +smile, which just allowed the ends of the white teeth to thread +them;--Verty was himself again. + +He raised his head, and would have caught sight of the young girls in +the garden, but for a circumstance which occurred just at that moment. + +This circumstance was the appearance of Miss Sallianna--Miss Sallianna +arrayed in all her beauties and attractions, including a huge +breastpin, a dress of enormous pattern, and a scarf around her +delicate waist, azure-hued and diaphanous like the sky, veiled with an +imperceptible cloud. + +The lady was smiling more than ever; her air was more languishing; her +head inclined farther to one side. Such was her ecstacy of "inward +contemplation," to use her favorite phrase, that the weight of thought +bent down her yellow eye-lashes and clouded her languishing eyes. + +She raised them, however, and glancing at Verty, started. + +"Good-morning, ma'am," said Verty--"Miss, I mean. I got your letter." + +"Good-morning, sir," said Miss Sallianna, with some stiffness; "where +are your clothes?" + +Verty stared at Miss Sallianna with great astonishment, and said: + +"My clothes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"These are my clothes." + +And Verty touched his breast. + +"No, sir!" said Miss Sallianna. + +"Not mine?" + +"They may be yours, sir; but I do not call them clothes--they are mere +covering." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"They are barbarous." + +"How, ma'am?" + +Miss Sallianna tossed her head. + +"It is not proper!" she said. + +"What, ma'am?" + +"Coming to see a lady in that plight." + +"This plight?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Not proper?" + +"No, sir!" + +"Why not?" + +"Because, sir, when a gentleman comes to pay his respects to a lady, +it is necessary that he should be clad in a manner, consistent with +the errand upon which he comes." + +"_Anan_, ma'am'?" + +"Goodness gracious!" cried Miss Sallianna, forgetting her attitudes, +and vigorously rubbing her nose; "did any body ever?" + +"Ever what, ma'am?" + +"Ever see a person so hard to understand as you are, sir." + +"I don't understand long words," said Verty; "and you know I am an +Indian." + +"I knew you _were_, sir." + +Verty shook his head, and smiling dreamily: + +"I always will be that," he said. + +"Then, sir, we cannot be friends--" + +"Why, ma'am--I mean, Miss?" + +"Because, sir, the properties of civilization require a mutual +criterion of excellence--hem!" + +"Oh yes," said Verty, very doubtfully, and checking by an effort his +eternal exclamation of ignorance; "but I thought you liked me." + +"I do, sir," said Miss Sallianna, with more mildness--"I thought we +should be friends." + +Verty smiled. + +"What a funny letter you wrote to me," he said. + +"Funny, sir?" said Miss Sallianna, blushing. + +"Very pretty, too." + +"Oh, sir!" + +"But I did'nt understand more than half of it," said Verty with his +old dreamy smile. + +"Pray why, sir?" + +"The words were so long." + +Miss Sallianna looked gratified. + +"They were expressive, sir, of the reciprocal sensation which beats in +my heart." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Verty. + +"But recollect, sir, that this sentiment is dependent upon exterior +circumstances. I positively cannot receive you in that savage dress." + +"Not receive me?" + +"No, sir." + +"What's the matter with my poor dress?" + +"It's abominable, sir--oderous; and then your hair--" + +"My hair?" said Verty, pulling at a curl. + +"Yes, sir--it is preposterous, sir. Did any body ever!" + +And Miss Sallianna carried her eyes to heaven. + +"I don't know," Verty said; "but it feels better." + +"It may, sir; but you must cut it off if you come again." + +Verty hesitated. + +"I thought--" he began. + +"Well, sir?" + +"I was thinking," said the young man, feeling a vague idea that he was +going wrong--"I thought that you were not so very particular, as you +are only a school-mistress, and not one of those fine ladies I have +seen riding by in their carriages. They might think some ceremony +needed--" + +"Not a--very well, sir--a schoolmistress--only--indeed!" said Miss +Sallianna, with dignity. + +Verty was too little acquainted with the expression of concentrated +feeling to understand these words, and smiling, + +"Then," he said, "there was another reason--" + +"For what, sir?" said Miss Sallianna, with great dignity. + +"For my not being very particular." + +"Please state it, sir." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +The lady sniffed with indignation. + +"I meant," said Verty, "that as you had very few beaux here--I believe +you call 'em beaux--I could come so. I know that Mr. Jinks comes, +but he is too fierce to be agreeable, and is not very nice, I should +think." + +Miss Sallianna darted a glance of scorn at the unlucky Verty, which +would have transfixed that gentleman; but unfortunately he did not see +it. + +"Yes," he went on, "there is a great deal of difference, Miss +Sallianna, between coming to see you, who are only a schoolmistress, +and hav'nt much fine company, and the rich ladies;--then you know I +thought that the difference between our ages--you being so much older +than I. am, about thirty or thirty-five, I suppose--" + +The cup was full. + +"Mr. Verty," gasped Miss Sallianna, "you will please to end our +interview at once, sir!--this language, sir, is intolerated, sir!--if +you wish to insult me, sir, you can remain!--I consider your +insinuations, sir, as unworthy of a gentleman. The viper!" cried Miss +Sallianna, becoming hysterical, and addressing her observations to +the ceiling; "the viper which I warmed in my bosom, and who turns and +rents me." + +Which was very ungallant in the viper not to say extraordinary, as it +implied that vipers dwelt in houses "to let." + +"Who beguiled himself into this resort of innocence, and attacked my +suspicious nature--and now casts reproaches on my station in society +and my youth!" + +"Oh, ma'am!" cried Verty. + +"Don't speak to me, sir! + +"No, ma'am." + +"Your very presence is deletrious." + +"Oh, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Go sir--go!" + +"Yes, ma'am--but are you well enough?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Have a glass of water?" + +"No, sir!" + +"I'm so sorry I said anything to--" + +"There is reason, sir." + +"You don't hate me?" + +"No, sir!" said Miss Sallianna, relenting, and growing gradually +calmer; "I pity and forgive you." + +"Will you shake hands?" + +"Yes, sir--I am forgiving, sir--" + +"At your time of life you know, ma'am, we ought'nt to--" + +Unfortunate Verty; the storm which was subsiding arose again in all +its original strength. + +"Leave me!" cried Miss Sallianna, with a tragic gesture. + +"Yes, ma'am--but--" + +"Mr. Verty?" + +"Ma'am!" + +"Your presence is opprobrious." + +"Oh, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Yes, sir--intolerant." + +"I'm so sorry." + +"Therefore, sir, go and leave me to my thoughts again--go, sir, and +make merry with your conjugal companions!" + +"Yes, ma'am," said Verty; "but I did'nt mean to worry you. Please +forgive me--" + +"Go, sir!" + +Verty saw that this tragic gesture indicated a determination which +could not be disputed. + +He therefore put on his hat, and having now caught sight of Fanny and +Redbud, bowed to his companion, and went--into the garden. + +Miss Sallianna gasped, and sinking into a chair, fell into violent +hysterics, in which numerous allusions were made to vipers. Poor +Verty! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +HOW MISS FANNY MADE MERRY WITH THE PASSION OF MR. VERTY. + + +Verty approached the two young girls and took off his hat. + +"Good morning, Redbud," he said, gently. + +Redbud blushed slightly, but, carried back to the old days by Verty's +forest costume, quickly extended her hand, and forgetting Miss +Lavinia's advice, replied, with a delightful mixture of kindness and +tenderness: + +"I'm very glad to see you, Verty." + +The young man's face became radiant; he completely lost sight of the +charge against the young lady made in Miss Sallianna's letter. He was +too happy to ever think of it; and would have stared Redbud out +of countenance for very joy and satisfaction, had not Miss Fanny, +naturally displeased at the neglect with which she had been treated, +called attention to herself. + +"Hum!" said that young lady, indignantly, "I suppose, Mr. Verty, I +am too small to be seen. Pray, acknowledge the fact of my existence, +sir." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty, smiling. + +Fanny stamped her pretty foot, and burst out laughing. + +"It's easy to see what is the matter with you!" she laughed. + +"Why, there's nothing," said Verty. + +"Yes, there is." + +"What?" + +"You're in love." + +Verty laughed and blushed. + +"There!" cried Fanny, "I knew it." + +"I believe I am." + +"Listen to him, Redbud!" + +"She knows it," said Verty. + +"Hum! I don't see how anybody can help knowing it." + +"Why?" + +"Because it is plain." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, sir; this very moment you showed it." + +"Yes--I believe I did." + +"Odious old thing!" + +"Who?" + +"Why, Miss Sallianna, sir--I don't care if you _are_ paying your +addresses! I say she's an odious old thing!--to be giving herself +airs, and setting her cap at all our beaux!" + +Verty stared, and then laughed. + +"Miss Sallianna!" he cried. + +"Yes, sir!" + +"I'm in love with her!" + +"You've just acknowledged it." + +"Acknowledged it!" + +"There! you're going to deny your own words, like the rest of your +fine sex--the men." + +"No--I did'nt say I was in love with Miss Sallianna." + +"Did'nt he, Redbud?" asked Fanny, appealing to her friend. + +"No," said Verty, before she could reply; "I said I was in love with +Redbud!" + +And the ingenuous face of the young man was covered with blushes. + +Fanny fairly shook with laughter. + +"Oh," she screamed, "and you think I am going to believe that--when +you spend the first half an hour of your visit with Miss +Sallianna--talking, I suppose, about the 'beauties of nature!'" + +And the young girl clapped her hands. + +"I wanted"--commenced Verty-- + +"Oh, don't tell me what you wanted!" cried Fanny; "you saw in the +garden here two nice young girls, if I do say it--" + +"You may--!" + +"I am not to be led off in that way, sir! I say you saw two agreeable +young ladies here evidently not indisposed to talk with visitors, as +it's a holiday--and in spite of that, you pass your time in the house +with that old Sallianna, cooing and wooing and brewing," added Miss +Fanny, inventing a new meaning for an old word on the spur of the +moment, "and after that you expect us to believe you when you say you +are not in love with her--though what you see to like in that old +thing it would take a thousand million sybils, to say nothing of +oracles and Pythonesses, to explain!" + +With which exhausting display of erudition, Miss Fanny lay back on her +trellised seat, and shook from the point of her slippers to the curls +on her forehead with a rush of laughter. + +Redbud had recovered from her momentary confusion, and, with a +beseeching glance at Fanny, said to Verty: + +"How much better you look, Verty, in this dress--indeed you look more +homelike." + +"Do I?" said the happy Verty, bending his head over his shoulder to +admire the general effect; "well, I feel better." + +"I should think so." + +"The other clothes were like a turkey blind." + +"A turkey blind?" + +"Oh, you smile!--but you know, when you are lying in the blind, the +pine limbs rub against you." + +"Yes." + +"Then they did'nt suit me." + +"No," assented Redbud. + +"_I_ don't dance the minuet--so I did'nt want high-healed shoes--" + +Fanny began to laugh again. + +"Nor a cocked hat; the fact is, I do not know how to bow." + +"See! Come, Mr. Fisher-for-Compliments!" cried Fanny. + +"Oh, I never do!" + +"Well, I believe you don't." + +"Does anybody?" + +"Yes; that odious cousin of mine--that's who does--the conceited +coxcomb!" + +"Your cousin!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Who is it?" + +"Ralph Ashley." + +"Oh--and he comes to see you--and--Miss Sallianna; she said--" + +Verty's head drooped, and a shadow passed over his ingenuous face. + +"There, you're thinking of Miss Sallianna again!" + +"No--no," murmured Verty, gazing at Redbud with a melancholy +tenderness, and trying to understand whether there could possibly be +any foundation for Miss Sallianna's charge, that that young lady was +in love with Mr. Ralph Ashley. + +"Could it be? Oh, no, no!" + +"Could what be?" asked Fanny. + +For once Verty was reserved. + +"Nothing," he said. + +But still he continued to gaze at Redbud with such sad tenderness, +that a deep color came into her cheek, and her eyes were cast down. + +She turned away; and then Miss Lavinia's advice came to her mind, and +with a sorrowful cloud upon her face, she reproached herself for the +kindness of her manner to Verty, in their present interview. + +"I think I'll go and gather some flowers, yonder," she said, smiling +faintly, and with a sad, kind look to Verty, in spite of all. "Fanny +and yourself can talk until I return, you know--" + +"Let me go with you," said Verty, moving to her side. + +Redbud hesitated. + +"Come, Redbud!" said Verty, persuasively smiling. + +"Oh, no! I think I would like to get the one's I prefer." + +And she moved away. + +Verty gazed after her with melancholy tenderness--his face lit up with +the old dreamy Indian smile. We need not say that the notable scheme +suggested by Miss Sallianna--namely, his making love to some one else +to try Redbud--had never crossed the ingenuous mind of the young man. +From that pure mirror the obscuring breath soon disappeared. He did +not wish to try Redbud--he loved her too much; and now he remained +silent gazing after her, and wholly unconscious of the existence of +Miss Fanny. + +That young lady pouted, and uttered an expressive "hum!" + +Verty turned his eyes absently toward her. + +"You can go, sir, if you don't like my society--I am not anxious to +detain you!" said Miss Fanny, with refreshing candor. + +"Go where?" said Verty. + +"After Redbud." + +"She don't want me to." + +"Hum!" + +And this little exclamation indicated the light in which Fanny +regarded the excuse. + +Verty continued to gaze toward Redbud, who was gathering flowers. + +"How kind and good she is!" he murmured. + +And these words were accompanied by a smile of so much tender +sincerity, that Fanny relented. + +"Yes, she is!" said that young lady; "I'm glad to see that some of +your sex, sir, have a little taste. It is not their failing." + +"Anan!" said Verty, smiling. + +Fanny laughed; and her good humor began to return completely. + +"I know some who are utterly deficient," she said. + +"In what?" + +"Taste." + +"Yes." + +And Verty gazed after Redbud. + +Fanny burst out laughing; but then remembering her promise to Redbud, +to treat Verty well, and amuse him, checked this exhibition of +satirical feeling, and said: + +"Your taste, Mr. Verty, is such that I ought to quarrel with it--but +I'm not going to;--no, not for fifty thousand worlds! If I have any +quarreling to do, it will be with some one else!" + +"With whom?" + +"That coxcomb cousin of mine, Ralph Ashley." + +Verty's countenance became clouded; it was the second time his rival's +name had been uttered that morning. + +"He is a fop," said Fanny--"a pure, unadulterated, presumptuous and +intolerable fop. As I live, there he is coming up the road! Oh, won't +we have fine times--he promised to show me his college album!" + +And the impulsive Fanny clapped her hands, and more loudly than ever. +Five minutes afterward Mr. Ralph Ashley dismounted at the door of the +Bower of Nature. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +RALPH MAKES LOVE TO MISS SALLIANNA. + + +We shall now return to Miss Sallianna, and see what effect the viper +tendencies of Mr. Verty had produced upon that young lady. + +The hysterics did not last long.. Miss Sallianna had a large and +useful assortment of feminine weapons of this description, and was +proficient in the use of all--from the embarrassed, simpering laugh +and maiden blush, with down-cast eyes, raised suddenly, at times, +toward the "beloved object," then abased again--to the more artistic +and effective weapons of female influence, tears, sobs, convulsions, +hysterics and the rest. In each and all of these accomplishments was +Miss Sallianna versed. + +The hysterics, therefore, did not last long; the eyes grew serene +again very soon; and contenting herself with a few spiteful looks +toward the group in the garden, which glances she accompanied with a +determined and vigorous rubbing of her antique nose, Miss Sallianna +gently raised her fan, and seeing a cavalier approaching from the +town, assumed her habitual air of languishing and meditative grace. + +This cavalier was our friend Ralph, who, having deposited Mr. Jinks +upon the earth before they emerged from the willows in sight of the +Bower of Nature, now came on, laughing, and ready for any adventure +which should present itself. + +Ralph drew up before the house, tied his horse, and entered. + +Miss Sallianna rose graciously, smiling. + +"Good morning, sir," said the lady, rolling her eyes toward the +ceiling, and leaning her head on her right shoulder, "we have a +charming day." + +"Oh, charming! but that is not all, madam," said Ralph, smiling +satirically, as he bent profoundly over the hand given to him. + +"Not all, sir?" sighed the lady. + +"There is something still more charming." + +"What is that?" + +"The dear companion with whom good fortune blesses me." + +This was so very direct, that Miss Sallianna actually blushed. + +"Oh, no--" she murmured. + +"Yes, yes!" + +"You men--" + +"Are sincere--" + +"Oh, no! such flatterers." + +"Flatterers, madam?" said Ralph, laughing, "that is true of some +of us, but not of me; I am so perfectly sincere, and clad in the +simplicity of my nature to that degree, that what I say is the pure +out-gushing of my heart--ahem!" + +The lady smiled, and motioned toward a settee. + +"The beauties of nature--" + +"Yes, my dear madam." + +"Are--ahem!" + +"Yes, yes." + +"So much more beautiful than those of art," sighed Miss Sallianna, +contemplating the ceiling, as though nature had taken up her post +there to be gazed at. + +"I fully agree with you," said Ralph, "they are." + +"Oh, yes--they are--I knew you would--you are so--so remarkable--" + +"No, no, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Yes, you are--for your intrinsic perspicuity, sir--la!" + +And Miss Sallianna ogled her visitor. + +"This," said Ralph, with enthusiasm, "is the proudest moment of my +life. The beautiful Sallianna--" + +"Oh, Mr. Ashley."' + +"Yes, madam!" said Ralph, "torture would not make me change the word." + +"La! Mr. Ashley!" + +"The beautiful Miss Sallianna has declared that I am possessed +of intrinsic perspicuity! I need nothing more. Now let the fates +descend!" + +With which heroic words Mr. Ralph Ashley wiped his brow with solemn +dignity, and chuckled behind his handkerchief. + +"I always admired perspicuity," said Miss Sallianna, with a languid +glance. + +"And I, beauty, madam." + +"La! sir." + +"Admiration is a weak word, Miss Sallianna." + +"Opprobrium?" suggested the lady. + +"Yes, yes! that is the word! Thank you, Miss Sallianna. I am not as +strong in philology as you are. I should have said opprobrium--that is +what I have always regarded beauty, such as yours, all my life." + +Miss Sallianna covered her face with her fan. Here was an opportunity +to supply the place of the faithless Verty and the odious Jinks. +As the thought occurred to her, Miss Sallianna assumed an awful +expression of favor and innocent fondness. Ralph shuddered as he +caught sight of it. + +"Are you fond of ladies, sir?" asked Miss Sallianna, smiling. + +"Yes, Miss Sallianna, devotedly," said Ralph, recovering, in some +degree. + +"I should think so." + +"Why, madam?" + +"From your visits." + +"My visits?" + +"Oh, yes--you are very sly!" + +"Sly?--I?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Never!" + +"I think you have grown fond of--" + +"Yourself, madam?" + +"La--no. I fear--" + +"As I do--" + +"That such a thing--" + +"Is more than I could presume to do," said Ralph, laughing. + +Miss Sallianna bestowed upon the young gentleman a look from her +maiden eyes, which seemed to say that he might presume to grow fond of +her, if it had really become necessary to his peace of mind. + +"But I meant Fanny," she said. + +"Fanny!" + +"Yes, your cousin." + +"A mere baby!" said Ralph, with nonchalance. + +"I agree with you." + +"Which I consider a circumstance of great encouragement, Miss +Sallianna. The fact is, Fanny is very well in her way, and in course +of time will make, no doubt, a very handsome woman. But at present I +only call to see her because I have nothing else to do." + +"Indeed?" + +"I am just from college." + +"Yes." + +"And consequently very innocent and inexperienced. I am sure you will +take charge of my education." + +"La! Mr. Ashley." + +"I mean, Miss Sallianna, the education, not of my mind--that is +finished and perfect: Oh, no! not that! The education of my heart!" + +Ralph was getting on at headlong speed. + +"Do you consent?" he said. + +"La--really--indeed--" + +"Why not, oh, beautiful lady--" + +"How can I ever--so inexperienced--so innocent a person as myself can +scarcely--" + +And Miss Sallianna fell into a flutter. + +"Then Fanny must." + +"Oh, no!" observed Miss Sallianna, with vivacity. + +"Why not?" said Ralph. + +"She could not--" + +"Could not!" + +"She is too young, and then besides--" + +"Besides, Miss Sallianna?" + +"She is already taken up with her affair with Mr. Verty." + +"What!" cried Ralph, beginning to have the tables turned upon him, and +to suffer for his quizzing. + +"She is evidently in love with Mr. Verty," said Miss Sallianna, +compassionately; "that is, the child fancies that she feels a rare and +inexpressive delight in his presence. Such children!" + +"Yes, madam!" said Ralph, frowning. + +"Especially that silly young man." + +"Verty?" + +"Yes; he is very presumptuous, too. Just think that he presumed +to--to--make love to me this morning;" and Miss Sallianna's +countenance was covered with a maiden blush. "I could scarcely +persuade him that his attentions were not agreeable." + +And Miss Sallianna looked dignified and ladylike. + +"Fanny in love with him," said Ralph, reflecting. + +"Look through the window," said Miss Sallianna, smiling. + +Ralph obeyed, and beheld Verty and Fanny sitting on a knoll, in the +merriest conversation;--that is to say, Fanny was thus talking. Young +ladies always begin to converse very loud when visitors arrive--for +what reason has not yet been discovered. Verty's absent look in the +direction of Fanny's face might very well have been considered the +stare of a lover. + +"Do you doubt any longer?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then, Mr. Ashley--" + +"Yes, madam." + +"In future you will--" + +"Care nothing for--" + +"The person--" + +"Who seems to me the concentration of folly and everything of that +description--no, madam! In future I will carefully avoid her!" + +And with this ambiguous speech, Mr. Ralph rose, begged Miss Sallianna +to excuse him for a short time, and making her a low and devoted bow, +took his way into the garden, and toward the spot where Fanny and +Verty were sitting. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +VERTY STATES HIS PRIVATE OPINION OF MISS SALLIANNA. + + +Fanny complimented Mr. Ralph Ashley with a very indifferent bow, and +went on talking with, or rather to, her companion Verty. + +Ralph tried to laugh at this; but not succeeding very well, came +suddenly to the very rational conclusion that something unusual was +going on in his breast. He had never before failed to utter the most +contagious laughter, when he attempted the performance--what could the +rather faint sound which now issued from his lips be occasioned by? + +Puzzled, and at his philosophy's end, Ralph began to grow dignified; +when, luckily, Redbud approached. + +The young girl greeted him with one of her kind smiles, and there was +so much light and joy in her face, that Ralph's brow cleared up. + +They began to converse. + +The chapter of accidents, whereof was author that distinguished +inventor of fiction, Miss Sallianna, promised to make the present +interview exceedingly piquant and fruitful in entertaining +misunderstanding; for the reader will observe the situation of the +parties. Miss Sallianna had persuaded Verty that Redbud was in love +with Ralph; and, in the second place, had assured Ralph, a few moments +before, that Fanny was in love with Verty. + +Redbud was clinching Verty's doubts by smiling sweetly on +Ralph;--Fanny was causing dreadful jealousy and conviction of his +misfortune in Ralph, by making herself agreeable to Verty. + +The schemes of the great Amazonian General, Sallianna, seemed to be +crowned with complete success; and, doubtless, all would have turned +out as she desired, but for one of those trivial circumstances which +overturn the most carefully matured conceptions of the greatest +intellects. + +This was the simplicity of our friend Verty; and he unconsciously +commenced the overturning operation by saying: + +"Redbud, did you find the flowers you wanted?" + +The young girl replied: + +"Oh, yes!" + +"'Beauties of nature,' Miss Sallianna would call 'em, would'nt she?" +continued Verty, with a smile. + +"Now, Verty!" said Redbud, reproachfully. + +"I can't help it," returned Verty; "I don't like Miss Sallianna." + +"Not like that paragon!" cried Fanny. + +"No." + +"Why not, sir?" + +"She told me a story." + +"A story, sir!" + +"Yes." + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak so disrespectfully of +such a divine creature--with so much maiden innocence and intrinsic +simplicity," observed Miss Fanny, inclining her head upon one +shoulder, and rolling her eyes toward the sky. + +Ralph began to laugh. + +"I would'nt say it if it was'nt true," Verty said; "but it is." + +"What story did she tell you, sir?" Fanny went on. + +"She said that Redbud was in love with him--Ralph Ashley." + +And Verty smiled. + +Fanny burst into a roar of laughter; Redbud blushed; Ralph looked with +astonishment at the plain-spoken Verty. + +"You know that was a story," said he, simply. + +Everybody remained silent for a moment, and then the silence was +broken by Ralph, who cried, laughing: + +"I'll back you, friend Verty! every word of it!" + +"You, sir!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes! I wonder if your divine creature--Sallianna by name--did not +tell me, ten minutes since, that you--yes, you, Miss Fanny!--were +desperately enamored of Mr. Verty!" + +The whole party were so overcome by this ludicrous exposé of Miss +Sallianna's schemes, that a laugh much louder than the first rang +through the garden; and when Miss Sallianna was descried sailing in +dignified meditation up and down the portico, her fan gently waving, +her head inclined to one side, her eyes fixed upon the sky, Mr. Ralph +Ashley entered into a neighboring mass of shrubbery, from which came +numerous choking sounds, and explosive evidences of overwhelming +laughter. + +Thus was it that our honest Verty at once cleared up all +misunderstanding--and made the horizon cloudless once again. If +everybody would only speak as plainly, when misconceptions and +mistakes arise, the world would have far more of sunshine in it! + +"Just to think!" cried Fanny, "how that odious old tatterdemalion has +been going on! Did anybody ever?" + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Sir?" said Fanny. + +"What's a tatterdemalion?" asked the young man, smilingly. + +"I don't exactly know, sir," said Fanny; "but I suppose it's a +conceited old maid; who talks about the beauties of nature, and tries +to make people, who are friends, hate each other." + +With which definition Miss Fanny clenched her handsome little hand, +and made a gesture therewith, in the direction of Miss Sallianna, +indicative of hostility, and a desire to engage in instant combat. + +Ralph laughed, and said: + +"You meant to say, my dear child, that the lady in question tried to +make a quarrel between people who _loved_ each other--not simply 'were +friends'. For you know she tried to make us dislike one another." + +Fanny received this insinuating speech with one of heir expressive +"hums!" + +"Don't you?" said Ralph. + +"What; sir?" + +"Love me!" + +"Oh, devotedly!" + +"Very well; it was not necessary to tell me, and, of course, that +pretty curl of the lip is only to keep up appearances. But come +now, darling of my heart, and light of my existence! as we _hav'nt_ +quarreled, in spite of Miss Sallianna, and still have for each other +the most enthusiastic affection, be good enough to forget these +things, and turn your attention to material affairs. You promised me a +lunch!" + +"Lunch!" + +"Yes--and I am getting hungry." + +"When did I promise?" + +"Yesterday." + +"Oh--now--" + +"You remember; very well. It was to be eaten, you will recollect, on +the hill, yonder, to the west, to which our steps were to tend." + +"Our picnic! Oh, yes! My goodness gracious! how could I forget it! +Come on, Reddie--come and help me to persuade Mrs. Scowley to undo the +preserve-jar." + +Redbud laughed. + +"May I go!" said Verty. + +"Certainly, sir; you are not at liberty to refuse. Who would talk with +Reddie!" + +"I don't think--" murmured Redbud, hesitating. + +"Now!" cried Fanny, "did anybody ever!" + +"Ever what!" said Verty. + +"Ever see anybody like this Miss Redbud!" + +"I don't think they ever did," replied Verty, smiling. + +Which reply caused Miss Fanny and Mr. Ralph to laugh, and Redbud to +color slightly; but this soon passed, and the simple, sincere look +came back to her tender face. + +Redbud could not resist the glowing picture which Fanny drew of the +picnic to be; and, with some misgiving, yielded. In a quarter of +an hour the young men and the young girls were on their way to +the beautiful eminence, swinging the baskets which contained the +commissariat stores, and laughing gleefully. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +HOW LONGEARS SHOWED HIS GALLANTRY IN FANNY'S SERVICE. + + +It was one of those magnificent days of Fall, which dower the world +with such a wealth of golden splendor everywhere--but principally in +the mountains. + +The trees rose like mighty monarchs, clad in royal robes of blue and +yellow, emerald and gold, and crimson; the forest kings and little +princely alders, ashes and red dogwoods, all were in their glory. +Chiefly the emperor tulip-tree, however, shook to the air its noble +vestments, and lit up all the hill-side with its beauty. The streams +ran merrily in the rich light--the oriole swayed upon the gorgeous +boughs and sang away his soul--over all drooped the diaphanous haze of +October, like an enchanting dream. + +To see the mountains of Virginia in October, and not grow extravagant, +is one of those things which rank with the discovery of perpetual +motion--an impossibility. + +Would you have strength and rude might? The oak is, yonder, battered +by a thousand storms, and covered with the rings of forgotten +centuries. Splendor? The mountain banners of the crimson dogwood, red +maple, yellow hickory and chestnut flout the sky--as though all the +nations of the world had met in one great federation underneath the +azure dome not built with hands, and clashed together there the +variegated banners which once led them to war--now beckoning in with +waving silken folds the thousand years of peace! Would you have +beauty, and a tender delicacy of outline and fine coloring? Here +is that too; for over all,--over the splendid emperors and humble +princes, and the red, and blue, and gold, of oak, and hickory, and +maple, droops that magical veil whereof we spoke--that delicate +witchery, which lies upon the gorgeous picture like a spell, melting +the headlands into distant figures, beckoning and smiling, making the +colors of the leaves more delicate and tender--turning the autumn +mountains into a fairy land of unimagined splendor and delight! + +Extravagance is moderation looking upon such a picture. + +Such a picture was unrolled before the four individuals who now took +their way toward the fine hill to the west of the Bower of Nature, and +they enjoyed its beauty, and felt fresher and purer for the sight. + +"Isn't it splendid!" cried Fanny. + +"Oh, yes!" Redbud said, gazing delightedly at the trees and the sky. + +"Talk about the lowland," said Ralph, with patriotic scorn; "I tell +you, my heart's delight, that there is nothing, anywhere below, to +compare with this." + +"Not at Richmond?--but permit me first to ask if your observation was +addressed to me, sir?" said Miss Fanny, stopping. + +"Certainly it was, my own," + +"I am not your own." + +"Aren't you?" + +"No, and I never will be!" + +"Wait till you are asked!" replied Ralph, laughing triumphantly at +this retort. + +"Hum!" exclaimed Fanny. + +"But you asked about Richmond, did you not, my beauty?" + +"Ridiculous!" cried Fanny, laughing; "well, yes, I did." + +"A pretty sort of a place," Ralph replied; "but not comparable to +Winchester." + +"Indeed--I thought differently." + +"That's not to the purpose--you are no judge of cities." + +"Hum! I suppose you are." + +"Of course!" + +"A judge of everything?" + +"Nearly--among other things, I judge that if you continue to look at +me, and don't mind where you are walking, Miss Fanny, your handsome +feet will carry you into that stream!" + +There was much good sense in these words; and Fanny immediately took +the advice which had been proffered--that is to say, she turned her +eye away from the bantering lips of her companion, and measured the +stream which they were approaching. + +It was one of those little mountain-brooks which roll their limpid +waters over silver sands; hurl by through whispering ledges, the +resort of snipe and woodcock; or, varying this quiet and serene +existence with occasional action, dart between abrupt banks over mossy +rocks, laughing as they fly onward to the open sunlight. + +The spot which the party had reached, united these characteristics +mentioned. + +A path led to a mossy log, stretched from bank to bank, some feet +above the water--a log which had answered the purpose of a bridge for +a long time, it seemed; for both ends were buried in the sward and the +flowers which decorated it. + +Below this, the limpid stream wound over bright sands and pebbles, +which glittered in the ripples like diamonds. + +"Now!" cried Ralph, "here is a pretty pass! How are these delightful +young ladies to get over, Verty?" + +"I don't know--I suppose they will walk," observed Verty, simply. + +"Walk!" + +"Yes." + +"What! when that very dog there had to balance himself in traversing +the log?" + +"Who, Longears?" + +"Yes, Longears." + +"He's not used to logs," said Verty, smiling, and shaking his head; +"he generally jumps the streams, like Cloud." + +"Oh! you need'nt be afraid," here interrupted Redbud, smiling, and +passing before Fanny quickly; "we can get over easily enough." + +The explanation of which movement was, that Miss Redbud saw the +lurking mischief in Mr. Ralph's eyes, and wished at least to protect +herself. + +"Easy enough!" cried Ralph, moving forward quickly. + +"Yes; look!" + +And with the assistance of Verty, who held one of her hands, Redbud +essayed to pass the bridge. + +The moss rendered it slippery, and near the middle she almost fell +into the stream; with Verty's aid, however, the passage was safely +effected. + +"There!" said Redbud, smiling, "you see I was right, Mr. Ashley--was I +not?" + +"You always are!" + +"And me, sir?" said Fanny, approaching the bridge with perfect +carelessness. + +"You are nearly always wrong, my life's darling," observed Mr. Ralph. + +"You are too bad, Ralph! I'll get angry!" + +"At what?" + +"At your impertinence!" + +"I was not impertinent." + +"You were." + +"I was right." + +"You were not." + +"And the proof is, that you are going to do something wrong now," said +Ralph, laughing. + +"What, sir?" + +"I mean, you _think_ you are going to?" + +"What! for goodness gracious sake!" + +"Cross that log!" + +"I certainly am going to," said Fanny, putting her foot upon it. + +"You certainly are _not_." + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I will, my heart's dear," said Ralph, snatching Miss Fanny up in his +arms, and rapidly passing across with his burden; "nothing easier! By +Jove, there goes your slipper!" + +In fact, just at the middle of the log, the ribbon, binding the +slipper to Miss Fanny's ankle, had broken--probably on account of her +struggles--and the luckless slipper had fallen into the stream. It +was now scudding along like a Lilliputian boat, the huge rosettes of +crimson ribbon standing out like sails. + +Ralph burst into a roar of laughter, from which he was instantly +diverted by a rousing slap upon the cheek, administered by the hand of +Fanny, who cried out at his audacity. + +"Cousins, you know!--we are cousins, darling; but what a tremendous +strength of arm you have!" + +"Try it again, sir!" said Miss Fanny, pouting, and pulling down her +sleeve, which had mounted to her shoulder in the passage. + +"Never!" cried Ralph; "I am fully conscious of my improper conduct. I +blush to think of it--that is to say, my left cheek does!" + +"Served you right!" said Fanny. + +"Uncharitable!" + +"Impudent!" + +"Unfortunate!" + +With which retort, Mr. Ralph Ashley pointed to the slipper-less foot, +which was visible beneath Miss Fanny's skirt, and laughed. + +Ralph would then have made immediate pursuit of the slipper, but Verty +detained him. + +The young man called Longears, pointed out the rosetted boat to that +intelligent serviteur, and then turned to the company. + +In two minutes Longears returned, panting, with the slipper in his +dripping mouth, from which it was transferred to the foot of its +mistress, with merry laughter for accompaniment. + +This little incident was the subject of much amusing comment to the +party--in which Miss Fanny took her share. She had soon recovered her +good-humor, and now laughed as loudly as the loudest. At one moment +she certainly did blush, however--that is to say, when, in ascending +the hill--Verty and Redbud being before--Mr. Ralph referred to the +delight he had experienced when he "saluted" her in crossing--which he +could not help doing, he said, as she was his favorite cousin, and her +cheek lay so near his own. + +Fanny had blushed at this, and declared it false;--with what truth, we +have never been able to discover. The question is scarcely important. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +UP THE HILL-SIDE AND UNDER THE CHESTNUTS. + + +Thus leaving the sedgy stream behind, with all its brilliant ripples, +silver sands, and swaying waterflags, which made their merry music +for it, as it went along toward the far Potomac,--our joyful party +ascended the fine hill which rose beyond, mounting with every step, +above the little town of Winchester, which before long looked more +like a lark's nest hidden in a field of wheat, than what it was--an +honest border town, with many memories. + +Verty and Redbud, as we have said, went first. + +We have few artists in Virginia--only one great humorist with the +pencil. This true history has not yet been submitted to him. Yet we +doubt whether ever the fine pencil of Monsignor Andante Strozzi could +transfer to canvas, or the engraver's block, the figures of the maiden +and the young man. + +Beauty, grace, and picturesqueness might be in the design, but the +indefinable and subtle poetry--the atmosphere of youth, and joy, and +innocence, which seemed to wrap them round, and go with them wherever +they moved--could not be reproduced. + +Yet in the mere material outline there was much to attract. + +Redbud, with her simple little costume, full of grace and +elegance--her slender figure, golden hair, and perfect grace of +movement, was a pure embodiment of beauty--that all-powerful beauty, +which exists alone in woman when she passes from the fairy land of +childhood, or toward the real world, pausing with reluctant feet upon +the line which separates them. + +Her golden hair was secured by a bow of scarlet ribbon, her dress was +azure, the little chip hat, with its floating streamer, just fell over +her fine brow, and gave a shadowy softness to her tender smile: she +looked like some young shepherdness of Arcady, from out the old +romances, fresh, and beautiful, and happy. Poor, cold words! If even +our friend the Signor, before mentioned, could not do her justice, how +can we, with nothing but our pen! + +This little pastoral queen leant on the arm of the young +Leatherstocking whom we have described so often. Verty's costume, by +dint of these outlined descriptions, must be familiar to the reader. +He had secured his rifle, which he carried beneath his arm, and his +eye dwelt on the autumn forest, with the old dreamy look which we +have spoken of. As he thus went on, clad in his wild forest costume, +placing his moccasined feet with caution upon the sod, and bending his +head forward, as is the wont of hunters, Verty resembled nothing so +much as some wild tenant of the American backwoods, taken back to +Arcady, and in love with some fair Daphne, who had wiled him from the +deer. + +All the old doubt and embarrassment had now disappeared from Redbud's +face; and Verty, too, was happy. + +They went on talking very quietly and pleasantly--the fresh little +face of Redbud lit up by her tender smile. + +"What are you gazing at?" said the young girl, smiling, as Verty's eye +fixed itself upon the blue sky intently; "I don't see anything--do +you?" + +"Yes," said Verty, smiling too. + +"What?" + +"A pigeon." + +"Where?" + +"Up yonder!--and I declare! It is yours, Redbud." + +"Mine?" + +"Yes--see! he is sweeping nearer--pretty pigeon!" + +"Oh--now I see him--but it is a mere speck; what clear sight you +have!" + +Verty smiled. + +"The fact is, I was brought up in the woods," he said. + +"I know; but can you recognize--?" + +"Your pigeon, Reddie? oh, yes! It is the one I shot that day, and +followed." + +"Yes--" + +"And found you by--I'm very much obliged to him," said Verty, smiling; +"there he goes, sweeping back to the Bower of Nature." + +"How prettily he flies," Redbud said, looking at the bird,--"and now +he is gone." + +"I see him yet--another has joined him--there they go--dying, dying, +dying in the distance--there! they are gone!" + +And Verty turned to his companion. + +"I always liked pigeons and doves," he said, "but doves the best; I +never shoot them now." + +"I love them, too." + +"They are so pretty!" + +"Oh, yes!" said Redbud; "and they coo so sweetly. Did you never hear +them in the woods, Verty--moaning in their nests?" + +"Often--very often, Reddie." + +"Then the dove was the bird sent out of the ark, you know." + +"Yes," said Verty, "and came back with the olive branch. I love to +read that." + +"What a long, weary flight the poor bird must have had!" + +"And how tired it must have been." + +"But God sustained it." + +"I know," said Verty; "I wish I had been there when it flew back. +How the children--if there were any children--must have smoothed its +wings, and petted it, and clapped their hands at the sight of the +olive branch!" + +The simple Verty laughed, as he thought of the glee of the little +ark-children--"if there were any." + +"There are no olives here," he said, when they had gone a little +further; "but just look at that hickory! It's growing as yellow as a +buttercup." + +"Yes, and see the maples!" + +"Poor fellows!" said Verty. + +"Why pity them? + +"I always did; see how they are burning away. And the chestnuts--oh! +I think we will get some chestnuts: here is a tree--and we are at the +top of the hill." + +Verty thereupon let go Redbud's arm, and busied himself in gathering a +pile of the chestnuts which had fallen. This ceremony was attentively +watched by Longears, who, lying with his front paws stretched out +straight, his head bent knowingly on one side, and an expression of +thoughtful dignity upon his countenance, seemed to be revelling in the +calm delights of a good conscience and a mild digestion. + +Fanny and her cavalier came up just as Verty had collected a pile of +the chestnuts, and prepared some stones for the purpose of mashing +them out. + +The party thereupon, with much laughter, betook themselves to the +task, talking gaily, and admiring the landscape as they munched--for +even young ladies munch--the chestnuts. + +One accident only happened, and that was not of an important nature. +Longears, full of curiosity, like most intellectual characters, had +approached very near Verty as he was mashing the chestnuts upon +the stone selected for the purpose, and even in the excess of his +interest, had protruded his nose in the vicinity of the young man's +left hand, which held the nuts, while he prepared to strike it with +the mass of limestone which he held in his right. + +It chanced that Verty was talking to Fanny when Longears made this +demonstration of curiosity, and did not observe him. + +Longears sniffed. + +Verty raised his stone. + +Longears smelt at the chestnut in his master's grasp, his cold muzzle +nearly touching it. + +The stone crashed down. + +Longears made a terrific spring backwards, and retiring to some +distance rubbed his nose vigorously with his paws, looking all the +while with dignified reproach at his master. + +The nose had not suffered, however, and Longears was soon appeased +and in a good humor again. The incident caused a great accession of +laughter, and after this the chestnuts having been eaten, the party +rose to walk on. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. + + +"How, sir." + +"Well, madam." + +"Keep your promise." + +"Please to indicate it." + +"I refer, sir, to your college album." + +"Oh, certainly! here it is, my darling--all ready." + +And Mr. Ralph Ashley, between whom and Miss Fanny this dialogue had +taken place, seated himself beneath a magnificent tulip-tree; and with +a movement of the head suggested a similar proceeding to the rest. + +All being seated, the young man drew from his breast-pocket a small +volume, bound in leather, and with a nod to Fanny, said: + +"I have changed my mind--I can't read but two or three." + +"Broken your promise, you mean." + +"No, my own;--oh, no." + +"Ralph, you are really too impudent!" + +"How, pray?" + +"And presumptuous!" + +"Why?" + +"Because, sir--" + +"I call you 'my own' in advance? Eh?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +Fanny had uttered the words without reflection--intending them as a +reply to Mr. Ralph's sentence, the words "in advance," being omitted +therefrom. Everybody saw her mistake at once, and a shout of laughter +greeted the reply. + +Ralph assumed a close and cautious expression, and said: + +"Well--I will be more careful in future. The fact is, that people +who are _to be_ married, should be as chary of their endearments, in +public, as those who _are_ married." + +General laughter and assent--except from Fanny, who was blushing. + +"Nothing is more disagreeable," continued Ralph, philosophically, +"than these public evidences of affection; it is positively shocking +to see and hear two married people exchanging their 'dears' and +'dearests,' 'loves' and 'darlings'--especially to bachelors; it is +really insulting! Therefore, it is equally in bad taste with those +who _are to be_ married;--logically, consequently, and in the third +place--and lastly--it is not proper, between myself and you, my +Fanny--hum--Miss Fanny!" + +This syllogistic discourse was received by Fanny with a mixture of +blushes and satirical curls of the lip. "Hum!" more than once issued +from her lips; and this expression always signified with the young +lady in question--"indeed!"--"really!"--"you think that's mighty +fine!"--or some other phrase indicative of scorn and defiance. + +On the present occasion, after uttering a number of these "hums!" +Fanny embodied her feelings in words, and replied: + +"I think, Ralph, you are the most impudent gentleman I have ever +known, and you wrong me. I wonder how you got such bad manners; at +Williamsburg, I reckon. Hum! If you wait until _I_ marry you--!" + +"I shall never repent the delay?" asked Ralph--"is that what you mean? +Well, I don't believe I shall. But a truce to jesting, my charming +cousin. You spoke of Williamsburg, and my deterioration of manners, +did you not?" + +"Yes!" + +"I can prove that I have not deteriorated." + +"Try, then." + +"No, I would have to read all this book, which is full of compliments, +Fanny; that would take all day. Besides, I am too modest." + +"Oh!" laughed Fanny, who had recovered her good humor. + +"Let us hear, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, smiling. + +"Yes--let us see how the odious, college students write and talk," +added Fanny, laughing. + +"Well, I'll select one from each branch," said Ralph: "the friendly, +pathetic, poetical, and so forth. Lithe and listen, ladies, all!" + +And while the company listened, even down to Longears, who lay at some +distance, regarding Ralph with respectful and appreciative attention, +as of a critic to whom a MS. is read, and who determines to be as +favorable as he can, consistent with his reputation--while they +listened, Ralph opened his book and read some verses. + +We regret that only a portion of the album of Mr. Ralph Ashley has +come down to modern times--the rats having devoured a greater part of +it, no doubt attracted by the flavor of the composition, or possibly +the paste made use of in the binding. We cannot, therefore, present +the reader with many of the beautiful tributes to the character of +Ralph, recorded in the album by his admiring friends. + +One of these tributes, especially, was--we are informed by vague +tradition--perfectly resplendent for its imagery and diction; +contesting seriously, we are assured, the palm, with Homer, Virgil and +our Milton; though unlike bright Patroclus and the peerless Lycidas, +the subject of the eulogy had not suffered change when it was penned. +The eulogy in question compared Ralph to Demosthenes, and said that +he must go on in his high course, and gripe the palm from Graecia's +greatest son; and that from the obscure shades of private life, his +devoted Tumles would watch the culmination of his genius, and rejoice +to reflect that they had formerly partaken of lambs-wool together in +the classic shades of William and Mary; with much more to the same +effect. + +This is lost; but a few of the tributes, read aloud by Mr. Ralph, are +here inserted. + +The first was poetic and pathetic: + +"MY DEAR ASHLEY: + +"Reclining in my apartment this evening, and reflecting upon the +pleasing scenes through which we have passed together--alas! never to +be renewed, since you are not going to return--those beautiful words +of the Swan of Avon occurred to me: + + 'To be or not to be--that is the question; + Whether 'tis better in this world to bear + The slings and arrows of--' + +"I don't remember the rest; but the whole of this handsome soliloquy +expresses my sentiments, and the sincerity with which, + +"My dear Ashley, + +"I am yours, + +"----." + +"No names!" cried Ralph; "now for another: Good old Bantam!" + +"Oh, Mr. Bantam writes this, does he?" cried Fanny. + +"Yes, Miss; for which reason I pass it--no remonstrances!--I am +inflexible; here is another: + +"DEAR RALPH: + +"I need not say how sorry I am to part with you. We have seen a great +deal of each other, and I trust that our friendship will continue +through after life. The next session will be dull without you--I do +not mean to flatter--as you go away. You carry with you the sincere +friendship and kindest regards of, + +"Dear Ralph, your attached friend, + +"---- ----." + +"I like that very much, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, smiling. + +"You'd like the writer much more, Miss Redbud," said the young man; +"really one of the finest fellows that I ever knew. I want him to pay +me a visit--I have no other friend like Alfred." + +"Oh, Alfred's his name, is it!" cried Fanny; "what's the rest? I'll +set my cap at him." + +"Alfred Nothing, is his name," said Ralph, facetiously; "and I approve +of your course. You would be Mrs. Nobody, you know; but listen--here +is the enthusiastic: + +"MY DEAR ASHLEY: + +"You are destined for great things--it is yours to scale the heights +of song, and snatch the crown from Ossa's lofty brow. Fulfil your +destiny, and make your country happy!" + +"---- ----." + +"Oh, yes!" said Fanny; "why don't you!" + +"I will!" + +"Very likely!" + +"I'm glad you agree with me; but here is the _considerate_." + +And turning the leaf, he read-- + +"I SAY, OLD FELLOW: + +"May your course in life be serene and happy; and may your friends +be as numerous and devoted as the flies and mosquitos in the Eastern +Range. + +"Your friend, till death, + +"---- ----." + +"The fact is," said Ralph, in explanation, "that this is probably the +finest wish in the book." + +"Were there many flies?" said Fanny, + +"Myriads!" + +"And mosquitos?" + +"Like sands on the seashore, and of a size which it is dreadful to +reflect upon even now." + +"Very large?" + +"You may judge, my dear Fanny, when I tell you, that one of them +flew against a scallop of oysters which the boots was bringing to my +apartment, and with a single flap of his wings dashed it from the hand +of the boots--it was dreadful; but let us get on: this is the last I +will read." + +And checking Miss Fanny's intended outburst at the oyster story, Mr. +Ralph read on-- + +"You ask me, my dear Ashley, to give you some advice, and write down +my good wishes, if I have any in your direction. Of course I have, my +dear fellow, and here goes. My advice first, then, is, never to drink +more than three bottles of wine at one sitting--this is enough; and +six bottles is, therefore, according to the most reliable rules of +logic--which I hate--too much. You might do it if you had my head; +but you havn't, and there's an end of it. Next, if you want to bet at +races, ascertain which horse is the general 'favorite,' and as our +friend, the ostler, at the Raleigh says--go agin him. Human nature +invariably goes wrong; and this a wise man will never forget. Next, if +you have the playing mania, never play with anybody but gentlemen. You +will thus have the consolation of reflecting that you have been ruined +in good company, and, in addition, had your pleasure;--blacklegs ruin +a man with a vulgar rapidity which is positively shocking. Next, my +dear boy--though this I need'nt tell you--never look at Greek after +leaving college, or Moral Philosophy, or Mathematics proper. It +interferes with a man's education, which commences when he has +recovered from the disadvantages of college. Lastly, my dear fellow, +never fall in love with any woman--if you do, you will inevitably +repent it. This world would get on quietly without them--as long as +it lasted--and I need'nt tell you that the Trojan War, and other +interesting events, never would have happened, but for bright eyes, +and sighs, and that sort of thing. If you are obliged to marry, +because you have an establishment, write the names of your lady +acquaintances on scraps of paper, put them in your hat, and draw one +forth at random. This admirable plan saves a great deal of trouble, +and you will inevitably get a wife who, in all things, will make you +miserable. + +"Follow this advice, my dear fellow, and you will arrive at the summit +of happiness. I trust I shall see you at the Oaks at the occasion of +my marriage--you know, to my lovely cousin. She's a charming girl, and +we would be delighted to see you. + +"Ever, my dear boy, + +"Your friend + +"and pitcher, + +"---- ---- ----" + +"Did anybody--" + +"Ever?" asked Ralph, laughing. + +"Such inconsistency!" said Fanny. + +"Not a bit of it!" + +"Not inconsistent!" + +"Why, no." + +"Explain why not, if you please, sir! I wonder if--" + +"That cloud does not threaten a storm, and whether I am not hungry?" +said Ralph, finishing Miss Fanny's sentence, putting the album in his +pocket, and attacking the baskets. + +"Come, my dear cousin, let us, after partaking of mental food, assault +the material! By Jove! what a horn of plenty!" + +And Ralph, in the midst of cries exclamatory, and no little laughter, +emptied the contents of the basket on the velvet sward, variegated by +the sunlight through the boughs, and fit for kings. + +The lunch commenced. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +USE OF COATS IN A STORM. + + +It was a very picturesque group seated that day beneath the golden +trees; and the difference in the appearance of each member of the +party made the effect more complete. + +Redbud, with her mild, tender eyes, and gentle smile and sylvan +costume, was the representative of the fine shepherdesses of former +time, and wanted but a crook to worthily fill Marlow's ideal; for she +had not quite + + "A belt of straw and ivy buds, + With coral clasps and amber studs,--" + +her slender waist was encircled by a crimson ribbon, quite as prettily +embroidered as the zone of the old poet's fancy, and against her snowy +neck the coral necklace which she wore was clearly outlined, rising +and falling tranquilly, like May-buds woven by child-hands into a +bright wreath, and launched on the surface of some limpid stream. + +And Fanny--gay, mischievous Fanny, with her mad-cap countenance, and +midnight eyes, and rippling, raven curls--Fanny looked like a young +duchess taking her pleasure, for the sake of contrast, in the +woods--far from ancestral halls, and laughing at the follies of the +court. Her hair trained back--as Redbud's was--in the fashion called +_La Pompadour_; her red-heeled rosetted shoes--her silken gown--all +this was plainly the costume of a courtly maiden. Redbud was the +country; Fanny, town. + +Between Verty and Ralph, we need not say, the difference was as +marked. + +The one wild, primitive, picturesque, with the beauty of the woods. + +The other richly dressed, with powdered hair and silk stockings. + +This was the group which sat and laughed beneath the fine old tulip +trees, and gazed with delight upon the splendid landscape, and were +happy. Youth was theirs, and that sunshine of the breast which puts +a spirit of joy in everything. They thought of the scene long years +afterwards, and saw it bathed in the golden hues of memory; and +sighed to think that those bright days and the child-faces had +departed--faces lit up radiantly with so much tenderness and joy. + +Do not all of us? Does the old laughter never ring again through +all the brilliant past, so full of bright, and beautiful, and happy +figures--figures which illustrated and advanced that past with such a +glory as now lives not upon earth? Balder the beautiful is gone, but +still Hermoder sees him through the gloom--only the form is dead, the +love, and joy, and light of brilliant eyes remains, shrined in their +memory. Thus, we would fain believe that no man loses what once made +him happy--that for every one a tender figure rises up at times from +that horizon, lit with blue and gold, called youth: some loving +figure, with soft, tender smiles, and starlike eyes, and arms which +beckon slowly to the weary traveller. The memory of the old youthful +scenes and figures may be deadened by the inexorable world, but still +the germ remains; and this old lost tradition of pure love, and joy, +and youth, comes back again to bless us. + +The young girls and their companions passed the hours very merrily +upon the summit of the tall hill, from which the old border town was +visible far below, its chimneys sending upward slender lines of smoke, +which rose like blue and golden staves of olden banners, then were +flattened, and so melted into air. + +Winchester itself had slowly sunk into gloom, for the evening was +coming on, and a storm also. The red light streamed from a mass of +clouds in the west, which resembled some old feudal castle in flames; +and the fiery furzes of the sunset only made the blackness of the mass +more palpable. + +Then this light gradually disappeared: a murky gloom settled down upon +the conflagration, as of dying fires at midnight, and a cool wind from +the mountains rose and died away, and rose again, and swept along in +gusts, and shook the trees, making them grate and moan. + +Verty rose to his feet. + +"In five minutes we shall have a storm," he said. "Come, Redbud--and +Miss Fanny." + +Even as he spoke, the far distance pushed a blinding mass toward them, +and a dozen heavy drops began to fall. + +"We cannot get back!" cried Ralph. + +"But we can reach the house at the foot of the hill!" said Fanny. + +"No time to lose!" + +And so saying, Verty took Redbud's hand, and leaving Fanny to Ralph, +hastened down the hill. + +Before they had gone twenty steps, the thunder gust burst on them +furiously. + +The rain was blinding--terrible. It scudded along the hill-side, +driven by the wind, with a fury which broke the boughs, snapped the +strong rushes, and flooded everything. + +Redbud, who was as brave a girl as ever lived, drew her chip hat +closer on her brow, and laughed. Fanny laughed for company, but it was +rather affected, and the gentlemen did not consider themselves called +upon to do likewise. + +"Oh, me!" cried Verty, "you'll be drenched, Redbud! I must do +something for your shoulders. They are almost bare!" + +And before Redbud could prevent him, the young man drew off his +fur fringed coat and wrapped it round the girl's shoulders, with a +tenderness which brought the color to her cheek. + +Redbud in vain remonstrated--Verty was immovable; and to divert her, +called her attention to the goings on of Ralph. + +This young gentleman had no sooner seen Verty strip off his coat for +Redbud, than with devoted gallantry he jerked off his own, and threw +it over Miss Fanny; not over her shoulders only, but her head, +completely blinding her: the two arms hanging down, indeed, like +enormous ears from the young girl's cheeks. + +Having achieved this feat, Mr. Ralph hurried on--followed Verty and +Redbud over the log, treating Miss Fanny much after the fashion of the +morning; and so in ten minutes they reached the house at the foot of +the hill, and were sheltered. + +Fanny overflowed with panting laughter as she turned and threw the +coat back to Ralph. + +"There, sir!" she cried, "there is your coat! How very gallant in you! +I shall never--no, sir, never forget your devotedness!" + +And the young girl wrung the water from her curls, and laughed. + +"Nothing more natural, my dear," said Ralph. + +"Than what?" + +"My devotedness." + +"How?" + +"Can you ask?" + +"Yes, sir, I can." + +"Would you have me a heathen?" + +"A heathen!" + +"Yes, Miss Fanny; the least which would be expected of a gentleman +would be more than I have done, under the circumstances, and with the +peculiar relationship between us. + +"Oh, yes, cousinship!" + +"No, madam, intended wedlock." + +"Sir!" + +"Come, don't blush so, my heart's delight," said Ralph, "and if the +subject is disagreeable, that is, a reference to it in this public +manner, I will say no more." + +"Hum!"-- + +"There, now--" + +"I think that your impudence--" + +"Is very reasonable," said Ralph, filling up the sentence; "but +suppose you dry your feet, and yourself generally, as Miss Redbud is +doing. That is more profitable than a discussion with me." + +This advice seemed excellent, and Fanny determined to follow it, +though she did not yield in the tongue contest without a number of +"hums!" which finally, however, died away like the mutterings of the +storm without. + +The good-humored old woman to whom the humble mansion belonged, had +kindled a bundle of twigs in the large fire-place; and before the +cheerful blaze the young girls and their cavaliers were soon seated, +their wet garments smoking, and the owners of the garments laughing. + +The good-humored old dame would have furnished them with a change, but +this was declared unnecessary, as the storm seemed already exhausted, +and they would, ere long, be able to continue their way. + +Indeed, the storm had been one of those quick and violent outbursts of +the sky, which seem to empty the clouds instantly almost, as though +the pent up waters were shut in by a floodgate, shattered by the +thunder and the lightning. Soon, only a few heavy drops continued +to fall, and the setting sun, bursting in splendor from the western +clouds, poised its red ball of fire upon the horizon, and poured a +flood of crimson on the dancing streamlets, the glittering grass, and +drenched foliage of the hill-side. + +Redbud rose, smiling. + +"I think we can go now," she said, "I am afraid to stay any longer--my +clothes are very wet, and I have not health enough to risk losing +any." + +With which the girl, with another smile, tied the ribbon of her chip +hat under her chin, and looked at Verty. + +That gentleman rose. + +"I wish my coat had been thicker," he said, "but I can't help it. Yes, +yes, Redbud, indeed we must get back. It would'nt do for you to get +sick." + +"And me, sir!" said Fanny. + +"You?" said Verty, smiling. + +"Yes, sir; I suppose it would do for me?" + +"I don't know." + +"Hum!" + +"I can tell you, dear," said Ralph, "and I assure you the thing would +not answer under any circumstances. Come, let us follow Miss Redbud." + +They all thanked the smiling old dame, and issuing from the cottage, +took their way through the sparkling fields and along the wet paths +toward home again. They reached the Bower of Nature just at twilight, +and entering through the garden were about to pass in, when they were +arrested by a spectacle on the rear portico, which brought a smile to +every lip. + +Mr. Jinks was on his knees before Miss Sallianna there. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +HOW MR. JINKS REQUESTED RALPH TO HOLD HIM. + + +Our last view of Mr. Jinks was at Bousch's tavern, when, mounting in a +manner peculiar to himself behind Ralph, the warlike gentleman set out +to take revenge. + +He had ridden thus almost to the Bower of Nature; but on reaching the +belt of willows at the foot of the hill, requested to be placed upon +the earth, in order to make his toilet, to prepare himself for the +coming interview, and for other reasons. + +Ralph had laughed, and complied. + +Mr. Jinks had seated himself upon a bank by the little stream--the +same which we have seen the picnic party cross higher up--upon a log, +and then drawing from his pocket a small mirror, he had proceeded to +make his toilet. + +This ceremony consisted in a scrupulous arrangement of his artificial +locks--a cultivation of the warlike and chivalrous expression of +countenance--and a general review of the state of his wardrobe. + +He soon finished these ceremonies, and then continued his way toward +the Bower of Nature. + +He arrived just as Ralph had proposed the excursion to the young +girls--consequently, some moments after the young fellow's interview +with Miss Sallianna--and entered with the air of a conqueror and a +master. + +History and tradition--from which, with the assistance of imagination, +(nothing unusual,) our veritable narrative is drawn--history affords +us no information in regard to what occurred at this interview between +Mr. Jinks and Miss Sallianna. + +That the interview would have been terrific, full of reproaches, +drowned in tears, objurgations, and jealous ravings, is certainly no +more than the words of Mr. Jinks would have led an impartial listener +to believe. But Mr. Jinks was deep--knew women, as he often said, as +well as need be--and therefore it is not at all improbable that the +jealous ravings and other ceremonies were, upon reflection, omitted +by Mr. Jinks, as in themselves unnecessary and a waste of time. The +reader may estimate the probabilities, pro and con, for himself. + +Whatever doubt exists, however, upon the subject of this +interview--its character and complexion--no doubt at all can possibly +attach to the picturesque denouement which we have referred to in the +last lines of our last chapter. + +Mr. Jinks was on his knees before the beautiful Sallianna. + +The girls and their companions saw it--distinctly, undoubtedly, +without possibility of mistake; finally, hearing the sound of +footsteps on the graveled walks, Mr. Jinks turned his head, and saw +that they saw him! + +It was a grand spectacle which at that moment they beheld: Mr. Jinks +erect before his rival and his foes--Mr. Jinks with his hand upon his +sword--Mr. Jinks with stern resolve and lofty dignity in his form and +mien. + +"Sir," said Mr. Jinks to Ralph, "I am glad to see you--!" + +"And I am delighted, my dear Jinks!" returned Ralph. + +"A fine day, sir!" + +"A glorious day!" + +"A heavy storm." + +"Tremendous!" + +"Wet?" + +"Very!" + +And Ralph wrung the water out of his falling cuff. + +"I say, though," said he, "things seem to have been going on very +tranquilly here." + +"Sir?" + +"Come, old fellow!" don't be ashamed of--" + +"What, sir! _I_ ashamed?" + +"Of kneeling down--you know." + +And Ralph, smiling confidentially, made significant signs over his +shoulder toward Miss Sallianna, who had withdrawn with blushing +diffidence to the other end of the portico, and was gently waving her +fan as she gazed upon the sunset. + +"The fact is, I was arranging her shoe-bow," said Mr. Jinks. + +"Oh!" said Ralph, "gammon," + +"Sir?" + +"You were courting her." + +"Courting!" + +"Ah--you deny it! Well, let us see!" + +And to Mr. Jinks' profound consternation he raised his voice, and +said, laughing: + +"Tell me, Miss Sallianna, if my friend Jinks has not been courting +you?" + +"Oh, sir!" cried Miss Sallianna, in a flutter. + +"Did you say, no?" continued Ralph, pretending to so understand the +lady; "very well, then, I may advise you, my dear Jinks, not to do +so." + +"Do what, sir?" + +"Court Miss Sallianna." + +"Why not, sir?" cried Mr. Jinks, bristling up. + +"Because you would have no chance." + +"No chance, sir!" + +Ralph's propensity for mischief got the better of him; and leaning +over, he whispered in the warlike gentleman's ear, as he pointed to +Miss Sallianna. + +"I say, Jinks, don't you understand?--desperately in +love--hum--with--hum--Verty here; no doubt of it!" + +And Ralph drew back, looking mysterious. + +Mr. Jinks cast upon the quiet Verty a glance which would have frozen +giants into stone. + +"No, sir! all explained!" he said. + +"It can't be, my dear fellow," said Ralph, in a low tone. "Verty has +the proofs." + +"Did you speak to me?" said Verty, smiling: he had been talking with +Redbud during this conference. + +"Yes, I did," said Ralph. Verty smiled, and said: + +"I did not hear what you asked." + +"No wonder," said Ralph. And turning to Mr. Jinks: + +"Observe," he said, in a low tone, "how Mr. Verty is trying to make +Miss Sallianna jealous." + +"Perdition!" said Mr. Jinks. + +"Oh, certainly!" replied Ralph, with solemn sympathy; "but here is Mr. +Verty waiting patiently to hear what I have to say." + +"Yes," said Verty, still smiling. + +"It is Mr. Jinks who desires to speak," said Ralph, retiring with a +chuckle, and leaving the adversaries face to face. + +"Hum--at--yes, sir--I desired to speak, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, with +threatening calmness. + +"Did you?" said Verty, smiling. + +"Yes, sir!" + +"I can hear now." + +"It is well that you can, sir! Mark me, sir! Some people cannot hear!" + +"Ah?" said Verty, "yes, you mean deaf people!" + +"I refer to others, sir!" + +"Yes?" + +"Nor can they see." + +"Blind people," suggested Verty. + +Mr. Jinks had an impression that Verty was trifling with him; and +considering him too good-natured to quarrel, advanced toward him with +a threatening gesture. + +"I refer to people neither blind nor deaf, who cannot see nor hear +insults, sir!" he said. + +"I never knew any," said Verty, wondering at Mr. Jinks. + +"You are one, sir!" + +"I!" + +"Yes!" + +"Do you mean I am afraid of anything?" + +"I mean, sir, that I have been wronged." + +"I don't care," said Verty, "you are not good-natured." + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"You are angry." + +"I am, sir!" + +"I advise you not to be; you don't look handsome," said Verty." + +"Sir!" cried Mr. Jinks. + +Verty's face assumed an expression of mild inquiry. + +"Will you fight?" + +"Yes," said Verty, "but you ought not to fight with that old sword. +It's too long, and besides it would frighten old Scowley--" + +"Sir!" cried Mr. Jinks, ferociously. + +"And I know Miss Sallianna would scream," said Verty. "I would'nt mind +that, though--I would'nt--for I don't like her--she told me a story!" + +Mr. Jinks flashed out his sword, and brandished it around his head. + +"Oh, me! you've been scrubbing it!" said Verty, laughing. + +To describe the terrific rage of Mr. Jinks at this disregard of +himself, his threats and weapon, would be utterly impossible. + +The great Jinks raved, swore, and executed such ferocious pirouettes +upon his grasshopper legs, in the direction of the smiling Verty, that +Ralph became alarmed at the consequence of his mischief, and hastened +to the rescue. + +"No, Jinks!" he cried, "there must be no fighting." + +"No fighting!" cried Mr. Jinks, whose ferocity, as soon as he found +himself held back, became tremendous,--"no fighting!" + +"No," said Ralph. + +"Release me, sir!" + +"Never!" cried Ralph, pinning his arms. + +"Hold me, sir! or I will at once inflict condign punishment upon this +individual!" + +"Certainly," said Ralph, beginning to laugh. "I will hold you; I +thought you said release you!" + +"I did, sir!" cried Mr. Jinks, making a very faint effort to get at +Verty. + +"Which shall I do?" + +"I will murder him!" cried Mr. Jinks, struggling with more energy, +from the fact that Ralph had grasped him more tightly. + +"Jinks! Jinks! you a murderer!" + +"I have been wronged!" said the champion, brandishing his sword. + +"Oh, no." + +"The respectable Mrs. Scowley has been insulted!" + +"You are mistaken!" + +"The divine Sallianna has been charged with falsehood!" + +"A mere jest." + +"Let me run the villain through!" + +And Mr. Jinks made a terrific lunge with his sword at Verty, and +requested Mr. Ashley to hold him tight, unless he wished to see the +Bower of Nature swimming in "gory blood!" + +The colloquy we have faithfully reported, took place in far less time +than we have taken to narrate it. + +Redbud had hastened forward with terror in her face, Fanny with +bewilderment--lastly, Miss Sallianna had rushed up to the spot with +a scream; the various personages came together just when Mr. Jinks +uttered his awful threat in relation to "gory blood." + +"Oh, Verty!" said Redbud. + +Verty smiled. + +"Alphonso!" cried Miss Sallianna, with distraction. + +Alphonso Jinks made overwhelming efforts to get at his enemy. + +"Please don't fight--for my sake, Verty!" murmured Redbud, with pale +lips. + +"Spare him, Alphonso!" cried Miss Sallianna, with a shake of agony in +her voice; "spare his youth, and do not take opprobrious revenge!" + +"He has wronged me!" cried Mr. Jinks. + +"Pardon him, Alphonso!" + +"He has insulted you!" + +"I forgive him!" cried Miss Sallianna. + +"I will have revenge!" + +And Mr. Jinks brandished his sword, and kept at a distance from Verty, +making a feint of struggling. + +"Jinks," said Ralph, "you are tiring me out. I shall let you go in +another second, if you don't put up that sword, and stop wrestling +with me!" + +This threat seemed to moderate Mr. Jinks' rage, and he replied: + +"This momentary anger is over, sir--I forgive, that young +man--Sallianna! beautiful Sallianna! for thy sake!" + +But overcome with nerves, and the revulsion produced by this change in +affairs, the beautiful Sallianna's head drooped upon one shoulder, her +eyes were closed, and her arms were extended towards Mr. Jinks. + +Before that gentleman was aware of the fact, Miss Sallianna had been +overcome by nerves, and reclined in a faint state upon his bosom. + +We need not detail the remaining particulars of the scene whose +outline we have traced. + +Verty, who had received all Mr. Jinks' threats and gesticulations with +great unconcern, applied himself to conversation with Redbud again: +and no doubt would have conversed all the evening, but for Ralph. +Ralph drew him away, pointing to the damp clothes; and with many +smiles, they took their leave. + +The last thing the young men observed, was Mr. Jinks supporting Miss +Sallianna, who had fainted a second time, and raising his despairing +eyes to heaven. + +They burst out laughing, and continued their way. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +VERTY'S HEART GOES AWAY IN A CHARIOT. + + +Verty remained hard at work all the next day; and such was the natural +quickness of the young man's mind, that he seemed to learn something +every hour, in spite of the preoccupation which, as the reader may +imagine, his affection for our little heroine occasioned. + +Roundjacket openly expressed his satisfaction at the result of the +day's labor, and hazarded a sly observation that Verty would not, on +the next day, remain so long at his desk, or accomplish so much. They +could not complain, however, Mr. Roundjacket said; Verty was a scion +of the woods, a tamed Indian, and nothing was more natural than his +propensity to follow the bent of his mind, when fancy seized him. They +must make allowances--he had no doubt, in time, everything would turn +out well--yes, Verty would be an honorable member of society, and see +the graces and attraction of the noble profession which he had elected +for his support. + +Verty received these friendly words--which were uttered between many +chuckles of a private and dignified character--with dreamy silence; +then bowing to Mr. Roundjacket, mounted Cloud, called Longears, and +rode home. + +On the following morning events happened pretty much as Mr. +Roundjacket had predicted. + +Verty wrote for some moments--then stopped; then wrote again for one +moment--then twirled, bit, and finally threw down his pen. + +Roundjacket chuckled, and observed that there was much injustice done +him in not elevating him to the dignity of prophet. And then he mildly +inquired if Verty would not like to take a ride. + +Yes, Verty would like very much to do so. And in five minutes the +young man was riding joyfully toward the Bower of Nature. + +Sad news awaited him. + +Redbud had suffered seriously from her wetting in the storm. First, +she had caught a severe cold--this had continued to increase--then +this cold had resulted in a fever, which threatened to confine her for +a long time. + +Poor Verty's head drooped, and he sighed so deeply that Fanny, who +communicated this intelligence, felt an emotion of great pity. + +Could'nt he see Redbud? + +Fanny thought not; he might, however, greet her as she passed through +the town. Word had been sent to Apple Orchard of her sickness, and the +carriage was no doubt now upon its way to take her thither. There it +was now--coming through the willows! + +The carriage rolled up to the door; Miss Lavinia descended, and +greeting Verty kindly, passed into the house. + +In a quarter of an hour the severe lady came forth again, accompanied +by the simpering Miss Sallianna, and by poor Redbud, who, wrapped in a +shawl, and with red, feverish cheeks, made Verty sigh more deeply than +before. + +A bright smile from the kind eyes, a gentle pressure of the white, +soft hand, now hot with fever, and the young girl was gone from him. +The noise of the carriage-wheels died in the distance. + +Verty remained for some moments gazing after it; then he rose, and +shaking hands with the pitying Fanny, who had lost all her merriment, +got slowly into the saddle and returned. + +He had expected a day of happiness and laughter with Redbud, basking +in the fond light of her eyes, and rambling by her side for happy +hours. + +He had seen her with fevered cheek and hand, go away from him sick and +suffering. + +His arms hanging down, his chin resting on his breast, Verty returned +slowly to the office, sighing piteously--even Longears seemed to know +the suffering of his master, and was still and quiet. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +IN WHICH THE HISTORY RETURNS TO APPLE ORCHARD. + + +Having devoted much space in the foregoing pages to those scenes, +descriptive, grotesque, and sentimental, which took place at the Bower +of Nature and Winchester, it is proper that we should now go back to +the domain of Apple Orchard, and the inhabitants of that realm, so +long lost sight of in the contemplation of the graces and attractions +of Miss Sallianna, and the various planets which hovered in the wake +of that great feminine sun of love and beauty. Apple Orchard, so long +lost sight of, will not longer suffer itself to be neglected; and, +fortunately, the return of our heroine, Redbud, affords an opportunity +of passing away, for the time, from other scenes, and going thither in +her company. + +Redbud's sickness did not last long. The girl had one of those +constitutions which, though they seem frail and delicate, yet, like +the reed, are able to resist what breaks more robust frames. +The wetting she had gotten, on the evening whose events we have +chronicled, had not seriously affected her;--a severe cold, and with +it some slight fever, had been the result. And this fever expended +itself completely, in a few days, and left the girl well again, though +quite weak and "poorly," as say the Africans. + +Redbud, like most persons, was not fond of a sick-room; and after +sending word, day after day, to our friend Verty--who never failed to +call twice at least, morning and evening--that she was better, and +better, the girl, one morning, declared to cousin Lavinia that she was +well enough to put on her dressing-wrapper, and go down stairs. + +After some demur, accompanied by many grave and solemn shakes of the +head, Miss Lavinia assented to this view of the case; and accordingly +set about arranging the girl's hair, which had become--thanks to the +fact that she could not bear it tied up--one mass of curls of the +color of gold; and this task having been performed with solemn but +affectionate care, the Squire made his appearance, according to +appointment, and taking his "baby," as he called our heroine of +sixteen and a half, in his arms, carried her down stairs, and +deposited her on a sofa, fronting the open window, looking on the +fresh fields and splendid autumn forest. + +Redbud lay here gazing with delight upon the landscape, and smiling +pleasantly. The autumn hours were going to the west--the trees had +grown more golden than on that fine evening, when, with sad mishaps to +Fanny, the gay party had wandered over the hills, though not very far +away, and seen the thunder-storm suck in the dazzling glories of the +bannered trees. Another year, with all its light, and joy, and beauty, +slowly waned away, and had itself decently entombed beneath the thick, +soft bed of yellow leaves, with nothing to disturb it but the rabbit's +tread, or forest cries, or hoof-strokes of the deer. That year had +added life and beauty to the face and form of Redbud, making her a +woman-child--before she was but a child; and the fine light now in her +tender eyes, was a light of thought and mind, the mature radiance +of opening intellect, instead of the careless, thoughtless life of +childhood. She had become suddenly much older, the Squire said, since +going to the Bower of Nature even; and as she lay now on her couch, +fronting the dying autumn, the year which whispered faintly even now +of its bright coming in the Spring, promised to make her a "young +lady!" + +And as Redbud lay thus, smiling and thinking, who should run in, with +laughing eyes and brilliant countenance, and black curls, rippling +like a midnight stream, but our young friend, Miss Fanny. + +Fanny, joyous as a lark--and merrier still at seeing Redbud "down +stairs" again--overflowing, indeed, with mirth and laughter, like a +morn of Spring, and making old Caesar, dozing on the rug, rise up and +whine. + +Fanny kissed Redbud enthusiastically, which ceremony, as everybody +knows, is, with young ladies, exactly equivalent to shaking hands +among the men; and often indicates as little real good-feeling +slanderous tongues have whispered. No one, however, could have +imagined that there was any affectation in Fanny's warm kiss. The very +ring of it was enough to prove that the young lady's whole heart was +in it, and when she sat down by Redbud and took her white hand, and +patted it against her own, the very tenderest light shone in Miss +Fanny's dancing eyes, and it was plain that she had not exaggerated +the truth, in formerly declaring that she was desperately in love +with Redbud. Ah! that fond old school attachment--whether of boy or +girl--for the close friend of sunny hours; shall we laugh at it? Are +the feelings of our after lives so much more disinterested, pure and +elevated? + +So Miss Fanny chatted on with Redbud, telling her a thousand +things, which, fortunately, have nothing to do with our present +chronicle--else would the unfortunate chronicler find his pen laughed +at for its tardy movement. Fanny's rapid flow of laughing and +picturesque words, could no more be kept up with by a sublunary +instrument of record, than the shadow of a darting bird can be caught +by the eager hand of the child grasping at it as it flits by on the +sward. + +And in the middle of this flow of words, and just when Fanny makes +a veiled allusion to an elderly "thing," and the propensity of the +person in question, to rob more juvenile young ladies of their +beaux--enter Miss Lavinia--who asks what thing Miss Fanny speaks of, +with a smile upon the austere countenance. + +Fanny declines explaining, but blushes instead, and asks Miss Lavinia +where she got that darling shawl, which is really a perfect love of +a thing; and so, with smiles from Redbud, the conversation continues +until dinner-time, when the Squire makes his appearance, and after +kissing Miss Redbud, affects to take Miss Fanny by the elbows and bump +her head against the ceiling, baby-fashion. In this attempt, we need +not say, the worthy gentleman fails, from the fact, that young ladies +of seventeen, are, for some reason, heavier than babies, and are +kissed with much more ease, and far less trouble, standing on their +feet, than chucked toward the ceiling for that purpose. + +Having dined and chatted pleasantly, and told a number of amusing +tales for Miss Redbud's edification--and against the silent protest +and remonstrance of said Miss Lavinia--the Squire declares that he +must go and see to his threshing; and, accordingly, after swearing at +Caesar, goes away; and is heard greeting somebody as he departs. + +This somebody turns out to be Verty; and the young man's face blushes +with delight at sight of Redbud, whom he runs to, and devours with his +glances. Redbud blushes slightly; but this passes soon, and the kind +eyes beam on him softly--no confusion in them now--and the small hand +is not drawn away from him, but remains in his own. + +And Fanny--amiable Fanny--knowing all about it, smiles; and Miss +Lavinia, staidest of her sex, suspecting something of it, looks +grave and dignified, but does not frown; and Verty, with perfect +forgetfulness of the presence of these persons, and much carelessness +in regard to their opinions, gazes upon Redbud with his dreamy smile, +and talks to her. + +So the day passes onward, and the shades of evening take away the +merry voices--the bright sunset shining on them as they go. They must +come again without waiting for her to return their visit--says Redbud +smiling--and the happy laughter which replies to her, makes Apple +Orchard chuckle through its farthest chambers, and the portraits on +the wall--bright now in vagrant gleams of crimson sundown--utter a +low, well-bred cachinnation, such as is befitting in the solemn, +dignified old cavaliers and ladies, looking from their laces, and +hair-powder, and stiff ruffs, upon their little grandchild. + +So the merry voices become faint, and the bright sunset slowly wanes +away, a rosy flush upon the splendid sky, dragging another day of work +or idleness, despair or joy, into oblivion! + +Redbud lies and gazes at the noble woods, bathed in that rosy flush +and smiles. Then her eyes turn toward a portrait settling into shadow, +but lit up with one bright beam--and the dear mother's eyes shine on +her with a tender light, and bless her. And she clasps her hands, and +her lips murmur something, and her eyes turn to the western sky again. +And evening slowly goes away, leaving the beautiful pure face with +evident regret, but lighting up the kind blue eyes, and golden hair, +and delicate cheek, with a last vagrant gleam. + +So the dim cheerful night came down--the day was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +HOURS IN THE OCTOBER WOODS. + + +In a week Redbud was going about again: slowly, it is true, and taking +care not to fatigue herself, but still she was no longer confined to +the house. + +She rose one morning, and came down with a face full of happy +expectation. + +That day had been appointed for a holiday in the woods, and Fanny, +Verty and Ralph were coming. Soon they came. + +Ralph was resplendent in a new suit of silk, which he had procured +after numerous directions from our friend Mr. O'Brallaghan; Verty +resembled the young forest emperor, which it was his wont to resemble, +at least in costume;--and Fanny was clad in the finest and most +coquettish little dress conceivable. After mature deliberation, we +are inclined to believe that her conquest of Ralph was on this day +completed and perfected:--the conduct of that gentleman for some days +afterwards having been very suspicious. We need only say, that he sat +at his window, gazing moonward--wrote sonnets in a very melancholy +strain, and lost much of his ardor and vivacity. These symptoms are +sufficient for a diagnosis when one is familiar with the disease, and +they were exhibited by Mr. Ralph, on the occasion mentioned. But we +anticipate. + +The gay party went out in the grove, and wandering about in the +brilliant October sunlight, gathered primroses and other autumn +flowers, which, making into bunches, they topped with fine slender, +palm-like golden rods:--and so, passing on, came to the old glen +behind, and just beneath the acclivity which made the western horizon +of Apple Orchard. + +"Look what a lovely tulip tree!" said Fanny, laughing, "and here is +the old lime-kiln--look!" + +Ralph smiled. + +"I am looking,"--he said. + +"You are not!" + +"Yes--at you." + +"I asked you to look at the old kiln--" + +"I prefer your charming face, my heart's treasure." + +Redbud laughed, and turning her white, tender face, to the dreamy, +Verty said: + +"Are they not affectionate, Verty?" + +Verty smiled. + +"I like that," he said. + +"So do I--but Mr. Ralph is so--" + +"_What_, Miss Redbud?" said Ralph, laughing, "eh?" + +"Oh, I did'nt know--" + +"I heard you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, at least I did. I don't see why I should not be affectionate to +Fanny--" + +"Humph!" from Fanny. + +"She is my dearest cousin--is Miss Fanny Temple; and we have been in +love with each other for the last twenty years, more or less!" + +Fanny burst into laughter. + +"Twenty years!" she cried. + +"Well?" said Ralph. + +"I'm only seventeen, sir." + +"Seventeen?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Seventeen--three from seventeen," said Ralph, thoughtfully +calculating on his fingers, "ah! yes! you are right--you have been in +love with me but fourteen years. Yes! yes! you have reason to say, as +you did, that it was not twenty years--quite." + +After which speech, which was delivered in an innocent tone, Mr. Ralph +scratched his chin. + +Fanny stood for a moment horrified at the meaning given to her +exclamation--then colored--then cried "Humph!"--then burst into +laughter. The party joined in it. + +"Well, well," said the bright girl, whose dancing eyes were full of +pleasure, "don't let us get to flirting to-day." + +"Flirting?" said Ralph. + +"Yes." + +"I never flirt." + +"No, never!" + +"There, you are getting ironical--you fly off from--" + +"The subject, I suppose--like that flying squirrel yonder--look!" + +Indeed, a mottled little animal, of the description mentioned, +had darted from the tulip toward a large oak, and falling as he +flew--which we believe characterizes the flight of this squirrel--had +lit upon the oak near the root, and run rapidly up the trunk. + +"Did you ever!" cried Fanny. + +"I don't recollect," said Ralph. + +"Why how can he fly?" + +"Wings," suggested Verty, + +"But they are so small, and he's so heavy." + +"He starts high up," said Verty, "and makes a strong jump when he +flies. That's the way he does." + +"How curious," said Redbud. + +"Yes," cried Fanny, "and see! there's a striped ground squirrel, and +listen to that crow,--caw! caw!" + +With which Fanny twists her lips into astonishing shapes, and imitates +the crow in a manner which the youngest of living crows would have +laughed to scorn. + +Redbud gathered some beautiful flowers, and with the assistance of +Verty made a little wreath, which she tied with a ribbon. Stealing +behind Fanny, she placed this on her head. + +"Oh, me?" cried Miss Fanny. + +"Yes, for you," said Ralph. + +"From Redbud? Oh! thank you. But I'll make you one. Come, sir,"--to +Ralph,--"help me." + +"To get flowers?" + +"Yes." + +"Willingly." + +"There is a bunch of primroses." + +"Shall I get it?" said Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I think you had better," said Ralph. + +"Well, sir!" + +"Now, Fanny--don't get angry--I will--" + +"No, you shan't!" + +"Indeed I will!" + +The result of this contention, as to who should gather the primroses, +was, that Fanny and Ralph, stooping at the same moment, struck their +faces together, and cried out--the young lady at least. + +Fanny blushed very much as she rose--Ralph was triumphant. + +"I've got them, however, sir," she said, holding the flowers. + +"And I had a disagreeable accident," said Ralph, laughing, and +pretending to rub his head. + +"Disagreeable, sir!" cried Fanny, without reflecting. + +"Yes!" said Ralph--"why not?" + +Fanny found herself involved again in an awkward explanation--the fact +being, that Ralph's lips had, by pure accident, of course, touched her +brow. + +It would, therefore, have only complicated matters for Fanny to have +explained why the accident ought not to be "disagreeable," as +Ralph declared it to be. The general reply, however, which we have +endeavored, on various occasions, to represent by the word "Humph!" +issued from the young girl's lips; and busying herself with the +wreath, she passed on, followed by the laughing company. + +From the forest, they went to the mossy glen, as we may call it, +though that was not its name; and Verty enlivened the company with a +description of a flock of young partridges which had there started up +once, and running between his feet, disappeared before his very eyes. +Redbud, too, recollected the nice cherries they had eaten from the +trees--as nice as the oxhearts near the house--in the Spring; and +Fanny did too, and told some very amusing stories of beaux being +compelled to climb and throw down boughs laden with their red bunches. + +In this pleasant way they strolled along the brook which stole by +in sun and shadow, over mossy rocks, and under bulrushes, where the +minnows haunted--which brook, tradition (and the maps) call to-day by +the name of one member of that party; and so, passing over the slip of +meadow, where Verty declared the hares were accustomed to gambol by +moonlight, once more came again toward the locust-grove of "dear old +Apple Orchard,"--(Fanny's phrase,)--and entered in again, and threw +down their treasures of bright flowers and bird's-nests--for they had +taken some old ones from the trees--and laughed, sang, and were happy. + +"Why! what a day!" cried Ralph; "if we only had a kite now!" + +"A kite!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes." + +"An elegant college gentleman--" + +"Oh--suspend the college gentleman, if I may use the paraphrase," said +Mr. Ralph; "why can't you permit a man to return again, my heart's +delight, to his far youth." + +"_Far_ youth." + +"Ages ago--but in spite of that, I tell you I want to see a fine kite +sailing up there." + +"Make it, then!" + +"By Jove! I will, if Miss Redbud will supply--" + +"The materials? Certainly, in one moment, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, +smiling softly; "how nice it will be!" + +"Twine, scissors, paper," said Ralph; "we'll have it done +immediately." + +Redbud went, and soon returned with the materials; and the whole +laughing party began to work upon the kite. + +Such was their dispatch, that, in an hour it was ready, taken to the +meadow, and there, with the united assistance of gentlemen and ladies, +launched into the sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +THE HAPPY AUTUMN FIELDS. + + +The rolling ground beyond the meadow, where the oaks rustled, was the +point of departure of the kite--the post from which it sailed forth on +its aerial voyage. + +The whole affair was a success, and never did merrier hearts watch a +kite. + +It was beautifully made--of beautiful paper, all red, and blue and +yellow--and the young girls had completely surrounded it with figures +of silver paper, and decorated it, from head to foot, with flowers. + +Thus, when it ascended slowly into the cerulean heavens, as said the +poetical Ralph, its long, flower-decorated streamers rippling in the +wind, it was greeted with loud cries of joy and admiration--thunders +of applause and enthusiastic encouragement to "go on!" from Ralph, who +had grown very young again--from Fanny, even more exaggerated cries. + +That young lady seemed to be on the point of flying after it--the +breeze seemed about to bear her away, and she clapped her hands and +followed the high sailing paper-bird with such delight, that Ralph +suggested she should be sent up as a messenger. + +"No," said Fanny, growing a little calmer, but laughing still, "I'm +afraid I should grow dizzy." + +And looking at the kite, which soared far up, and seemed to be peeping +from side to side, around the small white clouds, Fanny laughed more +than ever. + +But why should we waste our time in saying that the gay party were +pleased with everything, and laughed out loudly for that reason? + +Perhaps a merrier company never made the golden days of autumn ring +with laughter, either at Apple Orchard, where hill and meadow echoed +to the joyous carol, or in any other place. Sitting beneath the oaks, +and looking to the old house buried in its beautiful golden trees, the +girls sang with their pure, melodious voices, songs which made the +fresh, yet dreamy autumn dearer still, and wrapped the hearts of those +who listened in a smiling, calm delight. Give youth only skies and +pure fresh breezes, and the ready laughter shows how happy these +things, simple as they are, can make it. It wants no present beyond +this; for has it not what is greater still, the radiant and rosy +future, with its splendid tints of joy and rapture? + +Youth! youth! Erect in the beautiful frail skiff, he dares the tide, +gazing with glorious brow upon the palace in the cloud, which hovers +overhead, a fairy spectacle of dreamland--real still to him! Beautiful +youth! As he stands thus with his outstretched arms, the light upon +his noble face, and the young lips illumined by their tender smile, +who can help loving him, and feeling that more of the light of Heaven +lingers on his countenance, than on the man's? Youth! youth! beautiful +youth!--who, at times, does not look back to it with joyful wonder, +long for it with passionate regret--for its inexperience and +weakness!--its illusions and romance!--its fond trust, and April +smiles and tears! Who does not long to laugh again, and, leaning over +the bark's side, play with the foaming waves again, as in the old +days! Beautiful youth! sailing for Beulah, the land of flowers, and +landing there in dreams--how can we look upon your radiant brow and +eyes, without such regret as nothing taking root in this world can +console us for completely! Ah! after all, there is no philosophy like +ignorance--there is no joy like youth and innocence! + +The shouts and laughter ringing through the merry fields, on the fine +autumn morning, may have led us into this discourse upon youth: the +very air was full of laughter, and when Fanny let the kite string go +by accident, the rapture grew intense. + +Verty and Redbud sitting quietly, at the distance of some paces, under +the oaks, looked on, laughing and talking. + +"How bright Fanny is," said Redbud, laughing--"Look! I think she is +lovely; and then she is as good as she can be." + +"I like her," said Verty, tenderly, "because she likes you, Redbud. I +like Ralph, too--don't you?" + +"Oh, yes--I think he is very pleasant and agreeable; he has just come +from college, and Fanny says, has greatly improved--though," whispered +Redbud, bending toward Verty, and smiling, "she says, when he is +present, that he has _not_ improved; just the opposite." + +Verty sighed. + +The delicate little face of Redbud was turned toward him inquiringly. + +"Verty, you sighed," she said. + +"Did I?" said Verty. + +"Yes." + +Verty sighed again. + +"Tell me what troubles you," said Redbud, softly. + +"Nothing--nothing," replied Verty; "I was only thinking about college, +you know." + +"About college?" + +"Yes." + +And Verty repeated the sigh. + +"Tell me your thoughts," said Redbud, earnestly. + +"I was only thinking," returned her companion, "that there was no +chance of my ever going to college, and I should like to know how I am +to be a learned man without having an education." + +Redbud sighed too. + +"But perhaps," she said, "you might make yourself learned without +going to college." + +Verty shook his head. + +"You are not so ignorant as you think," Redbud said, softly. "I +know many persons as old as you are, who--who--are not half +as--intelligent." + +Verty repeated the shake of his head. + +"I may know as much as the next one about hunting," he said; "and _ma +mere_ says that none of her tribe had as much knowledge of the habits +of the deer. Yes! yes! that is something--to know all about life in +the autumn woods, the grand life which, some day, will be told about +in great poetry, or ought to be. But what good is there in only +knowing how to follow the deer, or watch for the turkeys, or kill +bears, as I used to before the neighborhood was filled up? I want to +be a learned man. I don't think anybody would, or ought to, marry me," +added Verty, sighing. + +Redbud laughed, and colored. + +"Perhaps you can go to college, though," she said. + +"I'm afraid not," said Verty; "but I won't complain. Why should I? +Besides, I would have to leave you all here, and I never could make up +my mind to that." + +("Let it go, Ralph!" from Fanny. + +To which the individual addressed, replies: + +"Oh, certainly, by all means, darling of my heart!") + +Redbud smiled. + +"I think we are very happy here," she said; "there cannot be anything +in the Lowlands prettier than the mountains--" + +"Oh! I know there is not!" exclaimed Verty, with the enthusiasm of the +true mountaineer. + +"Besides," said Redbud, taking advantage of this return to brighter +thoughts, "I don't think learning is so important, Verty. It often +makes us forget simple things, and think we are better than the rest +of the world--" + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"That is wrong, you know. I think that it would be dearly bought, if +we lost charity by getting it," said the girl, earnestly. + +Verty looked thoughtful, and leaning his head on his hand, said: + +"I don't know but I prefer the mountains, then. Redbud, I think if I +saw a great deal of you, you would make me good--" + +"Oh! I'm afraid--" + +"I'd read my Bible, and think about God," Verty said. + +"Don't you now, Verty?" + +"Yes; I read." + +"But don't you think?" + +Verty shook his head. + +"I can't remember it often," he replied. "I know I ought." + +Redbud looked at him with her soft, kind eyes, and said: + +"But you pray?" + +"Sometimes." + +"Not every night?" + +"No." + +Redbud looked pained; + +"Oh! you ought to," she said. + +"I know I ought, and I'm going to," said the young man; "the fact is, +Redbud, we have a great deal to be thankful for." + +"Oh, indeed we have!" said Redbud; earnestly--"all this beautiful +world: the sunshine, the singing of the birds, the health of our dear +friends and relatives; and everything--" + +"Yes, yes," said Verty, "I ought to be thankful more than anybody +else." + +"Why?" + +"You know I'm an Indian." + +Redbud looked dubious. + +"At least _ma mere_ is my mother," said Verty; "and if I am not an +Indian, I don't know what I am. You know," he added, "I can't be like +a deer in the woods, that nobody knows anything about." + +Redbud smiled; then, after a moment's thought, said: + +"I don't think you are an Indian, Verty." + +And as she spoke, the young girl absently passed the coral necklace, +we have spoken of, backward and forward between her lips. + +Verty pondered. + +"I don't know," he said, at last; "but I know it was very good in God +to give me such a kind mother as _ma mere_; and such friends as you +all. I'm afraid I am not good myself." + +Redbud passed the necklace through her fingers thoughtfully. + +"That is pretty," said Verty, looking at it. "I think I have seen it +somewhere before." + +Redbud replied with a smile: + +"Yes, I generally wear it; but I was thinking how strange your life +was, Verty." + +And she looked kindly and softly with her frank eyes at the young man, +who was playing with the beads of the necklace. + +"Yes," he replied, "and that is just why I ought to be thankful. If I +was somebody's son, you know, everybody would know me--but I aint, and +yet, everybody is kind. I often try to be thankful, and I believe I +am," he added; "but then I'm often sinful. The other day, I believe I +would have shot Mr. Jinks--that was very wrong; yes, I know that was +very wrong." + +And Verty shook his head sadly. + +"Then I am angry sometimes," he said, "though not often." + +"Not very often, I know," said Redbud, softly; "you are very sweet +tempered and amiable." + +"Do you think so, Redbud?" + +"Yes, indeed," smiled Redbud. + +"I'm glad you think so; I thought I was not enough; but I have been +talking about myself too much, which, Miss Lavinia says, is wrong. +But, indeed, Redbud, I'll try and be good in future--look! there is +Fanny quarreling with Ralph!" + +They rose, and approached the parties indicated, who were, however, +not more quarrelsome than usual: Fanny was only struggling with Ralph +for the string of the kite. The contention ended in mutual laughter; +and as a horn at that moment sounded for the servants to stop work for +dinner, the party determined to return to Apple Orchard. + +The kite was tied to a root, and they returned homeward. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE. + + +"Oh!" cried Fanny, as they were again walking upon the smooth meadow, +in the afternoon, "I think we ought to go and get some apples!" + +"And so do I," said Ralph. + +"Of course, I expected you to agree with me, sir." + +"Naturally; I always do." + +This observation was remotely satirical, and Miss Fanny resented it. + +"You are the most contentious person I ever knew," she said. + +"Am I?" asked Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is fortunate." + +"Why?" + +"Because, difference of opinion is the soul of conversation, and as +you never disagree with anybody, we could not converse. Observe how +the syllogism comes out?" + +"Fine logician!" + +"Lovely damsel!" + +"Mr. College-Graduate!" + +"Miss School-Girl!" + +"School-girl!" + +"College-graduate!" + +And after this exchange of compliments, the parties walked on, +mutually pleased with each other. + +Redbud and Verty followed them, and they soon arrived at the old +orchard. + +Behind the party followed Longears, whose presence, throughout the +day, we have very improperly neglected to mention; but as that +inquisitive animal was, during the whole morning, roaming, at his own +wild will, the neighboring fields--prying into the holes of various +wild animals, and exchanging silent commentaries with the Apple +Orchard dogs--this omission will not appear very heinous. + +Longears had now regaled himself with a comfortable dinner, the last +bone of which he had licked--and having thus, like a regular and +respectable citizen, taken care of the material, was busily engaged +again in the intellectual pursuit of his enemies, the squirrels, +butterflies and bees, at which he barked and dashed at times with +great vigor and enthusiasm. + +"Look at him," said Redbud; "why does he dislike the butterflies?" + +"Only fun," said Verty; "he often does that. Here, Longears!" + +Longears approached, and Verty pointed to the ground. Longears laid +down. + +"Stay there!" said Verty. + +And smiling, he walked on. + +Redbud laughed, and turning round made signs to the dog to follow +them. Longears, however, only moved his head uneasily, and wagged his +tail with eloquent remonstrance. + +"Let him come, Verty," said the girl. + +Verty smiled, and made a movement of the hand, which, from the +distance of a hundred yards, raised Longears three feet into the air. +Returning from this elevation to the earth again, he darted off over +the fields after the bees and swallows. + +The young men and their companions smiled, and strolled on. They +reached the old orchard, and ran about among the trees picking up +apples--now the little soft yellow crab apples--then the huge, round, +ruddy pippins--next the golden-coat bell apples, oblong and mellow, +which had dropped from pure ripeness from the autumn boughs. + +Verty had often climbed into the old trees, and filled his cap with +the speckled eggs of black-birds, or found upon the fence here, +embowered in the foliage, the slight nests of doves, each with its +two eggs, white and transparent almost; and the recollection made him +smile. + +They gathered a number of the apples, and then strolled on, and eat a +moment with the pleasant overseer's wife. + +A number of little curly-headed boys had been rolling like apples on +the grass as they approached; fat-armed and chubby-legged, and making +devoted advances to Longears, who, descending from his dignity, rolled +with them in the sunshine. These now approached, and the young girls +patted their heads, and Mr. Ralph gave them some paternal advice, and +the good housewife, spinning in her cane-bottom chair with straight +tall back, smiled pleasantly, and curtsied. + +The baby (there always was a baby at the overseer's) soon made his +appearance, as babies will do everywhere; and then the unfortunate +young curly-heads of riper age were forced to return once more to the +grass and play with Longears--they were forgotten. + +To describe the goings on of the two young ladies with that baby is +wholly out of the question. They quarreled for it, chucked it in their +arms, examined its toes with critical attention, and conversed with it +in barbarous baby language, which was enough, Ralph said, to drive a +man distracted. They asked it various questions--were delighted with +its replies--called its attention to the chickens--and evidently +labored under the impression that it understood. They addressed the +baby uniformly in the neuter gender, and requested to know whether it +was not their darling. To all which the baby replied with thoughtful +stares, only occasionally condescending to laugh. The feet having been +examined again--there is much in babies' feet--the party smiled and +went away, calling after baby to the last. + +"Now, that's all affectation," said Ralph; "you young ladies--" + +"You're a barbarian, sir!" replied Fanny, with great candor. + +"I know I am." + +"I'm glad you do." + +"But," continued Ralph, "tell me now, really, do you young girls +admire babies?" + +"Certainly _I_ do--" + +"And I," said Redbud. + +"They're the sweetest, dearest things in all the world," continued +Fanny, "and the man who don't like babies--" + +"Is a monster, eh?" + +"Far worse, sir!" + +And Fanny laughed. + +"That is pleasant to know," said Ralph; "then I'm a monster." + +Having arrived at which highly encouraging conclusion, the young man +whistled. + +"I say," he said, suddenly, "I wanted to ask--" + +"Well, sir?" said Fanny. + +"Before we leave the subject--" + +"What subject?" + +"Babies." + +"Well, ask on." + +"I wish to know whether babies talk." + +"Certainly!" + +"Really, now?" + +"Yes." + +"And you understand them?" + +"_I_ do," said Fanny. + +"What does 'um, um,' mean? I heard that baby say 'um, um,' +distinctly." + +Fanny burst out laughing. + +"Oh, I know!" she said, "when I gave him an apple." + +"Yes." + +"It meant, 'that is a very nice apple, and I would like to have +some.'" + +"Did it?" + +"Of course." + +"Suppose, then, it had been a crab-apple, and the baby had still said +'um, um,' what would it then have meant?" + +"Plainly this: 'that is not a nice apple, and I would not like to have +any.'" + +"That is perfectly satisfactory," said Ralph;"'um, um,' expresses +either the desire to possess a sweet apple, or the objection to a sour +one. I have heard of delicate shades of language before, but this is +the sublimity thereof." + +And Ralph laughed. + +"I never saw such a person," said Fanny, pouting. + +"By the bye," said Ralph. + +"Well, sir?" + +"What was there so interesting in the toes?" + +"They were lovely." + +"Anything else?" + +"Beautiful." + +"That all? Come, now, tell me the charm in those feet which you young +ladies designated, I remember, as 'teensy,' and expressed your desire +to 'tiss.' Shocking perversion of the king's English--and in honor of +nothing but two dirty little feet!" said Ralph. + +The storm which was visited upon Ralph's unhappy head for this +barbarous criticism was dreadful. Fanny declared, in express terms, +that he was a monster, an ogre, and with a stone in his breast instead +of a heart. To which Mr. Ralph replied, that the best writers of +ancient and modern times had nowhere designated as a monster the man +who was not in raptures at the sight of babies;--whereupon Miss Fanny +declared her disregard of writers in general, and her preference for +babies--at which stage of the discussion Ralph began to whistle. + +Why not catch the laughter of those youthful lips, and tell how +the young men and maidens amused themselves that fine autumn day? +Everything innocent and fresh is beautiful--and there are eyes which +shine more brightly than the sun, voices which make a softer music +than the breezes of October in the laughing trees. Redbud's face and +voice had this innocence and joy in it--there was pleasure in the very +sound of it; and such a delicate kind of light in the soft eyes, that +as they went, the young men felt more pure, and bowed to her, as +something better than themselves--of higher nature. + +The light of Fanny's eyes was more brilliant; but Redbud's were of +such softness that you forgot all else in gazing at them--lost your +heart, looking into their lucid depths of liquid light. + +One heart was irremediably lost long since, and, gone away into the +possession of the young lady. This was Verty's; and as they went +along he gazed so tenderly at the young girl, that more than once +she blushed, and suffered the long lashes to fall down upon her rosy +cheek. + +Fanny was talking with Ralph;--for these young gentlemen had made the +simple and admirable arrangement, without in the least consulting +the ladies, that Verty should always entertain and be entertained by +Redbud, Ralph quarrel with, and be quarreled with, by Fanny. + +Each, on the present occasion, was carrying out his portion of the +contract; that is to say, Verty and Redbud were quietly smiling at +each other; Ralph and Fanny were exchanging repartees. + +They came thus to the knoll which they had stopped upon in the +forenoon. + +The fine kite--tied to a root, as we have said--was hovering far up +among the clouds, swaying and fluttering its streamers in the wind: +the various colors of the paper, and the flowers almost wholly +indiscernible, so high had it ascended. + +"Look!" said Fanny, "there it is up among the swallows, which are +flying around it as if they never saw a kite before." + +"Female swallows, doubtless," observed Ralph, carelessly. + +"Female? Pray, why?" + +"Because they have so much curiosity; see, you have made me utter what +is not common with me." + +"What, sir?" + +"A bad witticism." + +Fanny laughed, and replied, gazing at the kite: + +"Your witticisms are, of course, always, fine--no doubt very classic; +now I will send up a messenger on the string. Redbud, have you a piece +of paper?" + +Redbud drew the paper from her apron pocket, and gave it to Fanny, +with a smile. + +Fanny tore the yellow scrap into a circle, and in the centre of this +circle made a hole as large as her finger. + +"Now, Mr. Ralph, please untie the string from the root." + +"With pleasure," said the young man; "for you, my heart's delight, I +would--" + +"Come, come, sir! you make an oration upon every occasion!" + +With many remonstrances at being thus unceremoniously suppressed, Mr. +Ralph knelt down, and untied the string. + +"Does it pull strongly, Mr. Ralph?" said Redbud, smiling. + +"Oh, yes! you know it was nearly as tall as myself--just try." + +"The messenger first!" cried Fanny. + +And she slipped it over the string. + +"Now, Miss Redbud, just try!" said Ralph. + +Redbud wrapped the string around her hand, and Ralph let it go. + +"How do you like it!" he said. + +"Oh!" cried Redbud, "it is so strong!--there must be a great wind in +the clouds!--Oh!" added the girl, laughing, "it is cutting my hand in +two!" + +And she caught the string with her left hand to relieve the afflicted +member. + +"Give it to me!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes, give it to her; she has the arm of an Amazon," said Ralph, +enthusiastically. + +"Humph!" + +And having entered this, her standing protest, Fanny laughed, and +unwound the string from Redbud's hand, on whose white surface two +crimson circles were visible. + +"I can hold it!" cried the young girl, "easily!" + +And to display her indifference, Fanny knelt on one knee to pick up +her gloves. + +The consequence of this movement was, that the heavy kite, struck, +doubtless, at the moment by a gust of wind, jerked the lady with the +Amazonian arm so violently, that, unable to retain her position, she +fell upon her left hand, then upon her face, and was dragged a pace or +two by the heavy weight. + +"By Jove!" cried Ralph, running to her, "did anybody--" + +"Oh, take care!" exclaimed Redbud, hastening to her friend's +assistance. + +"It is nothing!" Fanny said; "I can hold it." + +And to prove this, she let go the string, which was cutting her hand +in two. + +The poor kite! loosed from the sustaining hand, from the earth, which, +so to speak, held it up--it sees its hopes of elevation in the world +all dashed with disappointment and obscured. It is doomed! + +But no! A new friend comes to its rescue--deserted by the lords and +ladies of creation, the lesser creature takes it under his protection. + +Longears is the rescuer. Longears has watched the messenger we have +mentioned with deep interest, as it lays upon the string and flutters; +Longears imagines that it is a bee of the species called yellow-jacket +challenging him to combat. Consequently, Longears no sooner sees the +string dart from Fanny's hand, than believing the enemy about to +escape him, he springs toward it and catches it in his mouth. + +Longears catches a tartar; but too brave to yield without a struggle, +rolls upon the ground, grinding the yellow enemy, and the string +beneath his teeth. + +His evolutions on the grass wrap the string around his feet and neck; +Longears is taken prisoner, and finds himself dragged violently over +the ground. + +Brave and resolute before a common enemy, Longears fears this unknown +adversary. Overcome with superstitious awe, he howls; endeavoring to +howl again, he finds his windpipe grasped by his enemy. The howl turns +into a wheeze. His eyes start from his head; his jaws open; he rolls +on the grass; leaps in the air; puts forth the strength of a giant, +but in vain. + +It is at this juncture that Verty runs up and severs the string with +his hunting-knive; whereat Longears, finding himself released, rubs +his nose vigorously with his paws, sneezes, and lies down with an +unconscious air, as if nothing had happened. He is saved. + +The kite, however, is sacrified. Justly punished for wounding Redbud's +hand, throwing Miss Fanny on her face, and periling the life of +Longears, the unfortunate kite struggles a moment in the clouds, +staggers from side to side, like a drunken man, and then caught by +a sudden gust, sweeps like a streaming comet down into the autumn +forest, and is gone. + +Fanny is wiping her hands, which are somewhat soiled; the rest of +the company are laughing merrily at the disappearance of the kite; +Longears is gravely and seriously contemplating the yellow enemy with +whom he has struggled so violently, and whose conqueror he believes +himself to be. + +This was the incident so frequently spoken of by Mr. Ralph Ashley +afterwards, as the Bucolic of the kite. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE HARVEST MOON. + + +The day was nearly gone now, dying over fir-clad hills; but yet, +before it went, poured a last flood of rich, red light, such as only +the mountains and the valley boast, upon the beautiful sloping meadow, +stretching its green and dewy sea in front of Apple Orchard. + +As the sun went away in royal splendor, bounding over the rim of +evening, like a red-striped tiger--on the eastern horizon a light rose +gradually, as though a great conflagration raged there. Then the +trees were kindled; then the broad, yellow moon--call it the harvest +moon!--soared slowly up, dragging its captive stars, and mixing its +fresh radiance with the waning glories of the crimson west. + +And as the happy party--grouped upon the grassy knoll, like some party +of shepherds and shepherdesses, in the old days of Arcady--gazed on +the beautiful spectacle, the voices of the negroes coming from their +work were heard, driving their slow teams in, and sending on the air +the clear melodious songs, which, rude and ludicrous as they seem, +have yet so marvellous an effect, borne on the airs of night. + +Those evening songs and sounds! Not long ago, one says, I stood, just +at sunset, on the summit of a pretty knoll, and, looking eastward, saw +the harvesters cutting into the tall, brown-headed, rippling wheat. +I heard the merry whistle of the whirling scythes; I heard their +songs--they were so sweet! And why are these harvest melodies so +soft-sounding, and so grateful to the ear? Simply because they +discourse of the long buried past; and, like some magical spell, +arouse from its sleep all the beauteous and gay splendor of those +hours. As the clear, measured sound floated to my ear, I heard also, +again, the vanished music of happy childhood--that elysian time which +cannot last for any of us. I do not know what the song was--whether +some slow, sad negro melody, or loud-sounding hymn, such as the +forests ring with at camp-meetings; but I know what the murmuring and +dying sound brought to me again, living, splendid, instinct with a +thoughtful but perfect joy. Fairyland never, with its silver-twisted, +trumpet-flower-like bugles, rolled such a merry-mournful music to the +friendly stars! I love to have the old days back again--back, with +their very tints, and atmosphere, and sounds and odors--now no more +the same. Thus I love to hear the young girl's low, merry song, +floating from the window of a country-house, half-broken by the +cicala, the swallow's twitter, or the rustling leaves;--I love to hear +the joyous ripple of the harpsichord, bringing back, with some old +music, times when that merry music stamped the hours, and took +possession of them--in the heart--forever more! I love a ringing horn, +even the stage-horn--now, alas! no more a sound of real life, only +memory!--the thousand murmurs of a country evening; the far, clear cry +of wild-geese from the clouds; the tinkling bells of cattle; every +sound which brings again a glimpse of the far-glimmering plains of +youth. And that is why, standing on this round knoll, beneath the +merrily-rustling cherry-trees, and listening to the murmurous song, +I heard my boyhood speak to me, and felt again the old breath on my +brow. The sun died away across the old swaying woods; the rattling +hone upon the scythe; the measured sweep; the mellow music--all were +gone away. The day was done, and the long twilight came--twilight, +which mixes the crimson of the darkling west, the yellow moonlight in +the azure east, and the red glimmering starlight overhead, into one +magic light. And so we went home merrily, with pleasant thoughts and +talk; such pleasant thoughts I wish to all. Thus wrote one who ever +delighted in the rural evenings and their sounds;--and thus listened +the young persons, whose conversation, light and trivial though it +seem, we have not thought it a loss of time to chronicle, from morn +till eve. + +They gazed with quiet pleasure upon the lovely landscape, and listened +to the negroes as they sang their old, rude, touching madrigals, +shouting, at times, to the horses of their teams, and not seldom +sending on the air the loud rejoiceful outburst of their laughter. + +The moonlight slept upon the wains piled up with yellow sheaves--and +plainly revealed the little monkey-like black, seated on the summit of +the foremost; and this young gentleman had managed to procure a banjo, +and was playing. + +As he played he sang; and, as he sang, kept time--not with the +head alone, and foot, but with his whole body, arms, and legs and +shoulders--all agitated with the ecstacy of mirth, as--singing "coony +up the holler," and executing it with grand effect moreover--the +merry minstrel went upon his way. Various diminutive individuals of a +similar description, were observed in the road behind, executing an +impromptu "break down," to the inspiring melody; and so the great +piled-up wagon came on in the moonlight, creaking in unison with the +music, and strewing on the road its long trail of golden wheat. + +The moon soared higher, bidding defiance now to sunset, which it drove +completely from the field; and in the window of Apple Orchard a light +began to twinkle; and Redbud rose. She should not stay out, she said, +as she had been sick; and so they took their way, as says our friend, +"in pleasant talk," across the emerald meadow to the cheerful home. + +The low of cattle went with them, and all the birds of night waked up +and sang. + +The beautiful moon--the very moon of all the harvest-homes since the +earth was made--shone on them as they went; and by the time they had +reached the portico of the old comfortable mansion, evening had cast +such shadows, far and near, that only the outlines of the forms were +seen, as they passed in through the deep shadow. + +They did not see that Verty's hand held little Redbud's; and that he +looked her with a tenderness which could not be mistaken. But Redbud +saw it, and a flush passed over her delicate cheek, on which the +maiden moon looked down and smiled. + +So the day ended. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +BACK TO WINCHESTER, WHERE EDITORIAL INIQUITY IS DISCOURSED OF. + + +Busy with the various fortunes of our other personages, we have +not been able of late to give much attention to the noble poet, +Roundjacket, with whose ambition and great thoughts, this history has +heretofore somewhat concerned itself. + +Following the old, fine chivalric mansion, "_Place aux dames_!" we +have necessarily been compelled to elbow the cavaliers from the stage, +and pass by in silence, without listening to them. Now, however, when +we have written our pastoral canto, and duly spoken of the sayings and +doings of Miss Redbud and Miss Fanny--used our best efforts to place +upon record what they amused themselves with, laughed at, and took +pleasure in, under the golden trees of the beautiful woods, and in the +happy autumn fields--now we are at liberty to return to our good old +border town, and those other personages of the history, whose merits +have not been adequately recognized. + +When Verty entered Winchester, on the morning after the events, or +rather idle country scenes, which we have related, he was smiling and +joyous; and the very clatter of Cloud's hoofs made Longears merry. + +Verty dismounted, and turned the knob of the office-door. + +In opening, it struck against the back of Mr. Roundjacket, who, pacing +hastily up and down the apartment, seemed to be laboring under much +excitement. + +In his left hand, Roundjacket carried a small brown newspaper, with +heavy straggling type, and much dilapidated from its contact with the +equestrian mail-bag, which it had evidently issued from only a short +time before. In his right hand, the poet held a ruler, which described +eccentric circles in the air, and threatened imaginary foes with +torture and extermination. + +The poet's hair stood up; his breath came and went; his coat-skirts +moved from side to side, with indignation; and he evidently regarded +something in the paper with a mixture of horror and despair. + +Verty paused for a moment on the threshold; then took off his hat and +went in. + +Round jacket turned round. + +Verty gazed at him for a moment in silence; then smiling: + +"What is the matter, sir?" he said. + +"Matter, sir!" cried Roundjacket--"everything is the matter, sir!" + +Verty shook his head, as much as to say, that this was a dreadful +state of things, and echoed the word "everything!" + +"Yes, sir! everything!--folly is the matter!--crime is the +matter!--statutory misdemeanor is the matter!" + +And Roundjacket, overcome with indignation, struck the newspaper a +savage blow with his ruler. + +"I am the victim, sir, of editorial iniquity, and typographical +abomination!" + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I am a victim, sir!" + +"Yes, you look angry." + +"I am!" + +Verty shook his head. + +"That is not right," he replied; "Redbud says it is wrong to be +angry--" + +"Redbud!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Consign Miss Redbud--!" + +"Oh, no!" said Verty, "don't do that." + +"I have a right to be angry," continued Roundjacket, flourishing his +ruler; "it would be out of the question for me to be anything else." + +"How, sir?" + +"Do you see that?" + +And Roundjacket held up the paper, flourishing his ruler at it in a +threatening way. + +"The paper, sir?" said Verty. + +"Yes!" + +"What of it?" + +"Abomination!" + +"Oh, sir." + +"Yes! utter abomination!" + +"I don't understand, sir." + +"Mark me!" said Roundjacket. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is the 'Virginia Gazette.'" + +"Is it, sir?" + +"Published at Williamsburg." + +"I think I've heard of it, sir." + +"Williamsburg, the centre of civilization, cultivation, and the other +ations!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler savagely, and +smiling with bitter scorn. + +"Ah!" said Verty, finding that he was expected to say something. + +"Yes! the Capital of Virginia, forsooth!" + +"Has Williamsburg made you angry, sir?" + +"Yes!" + +"But the 'Gazette'--?" + +"Is the immediate cause." + +Verty sat down. + +"I'm sorry, sir," he said, smiling; "but I don't understand. I never +read the newspapers. Nothing but the Bible--because Redbud wants me +to: I hope to like it after awhile though." + +"I trust you will never throw away your time on this thing!" cried +Roundjacket, running the end of his ruler through the paper; "can you +believe, sir, that the first canto of my great poem has been murdered +in its columns--yes, murdered!" + +"Killed, do you mean, sir?" + +"I do--I mean that the illiterate editor of this disgraceful sheet has +assassinated the offspring of my imagination!" + +"That was very wrong, sir." + +"Wrong? It was infamous? What should be done with such a man!" cried +Roundjacket. + +"Arrest him?" suggested Verty. + +"It is not a statutable offence." + +"What, sir?" + +"Neglecting to send sheets to correct." + +"Anan?" said Verty, who did not understand. + +"I mean that I have not had an opportunity to correct the printed +verses, sir; and that I complain of." + +Verty nodded. + +"Mark me," said Roundjacket; "the publisher, editor, or reviewer who +does not send sheets to the author for correction, will inevitably +perish, in the end, from the tortures of remorse!" + +"Ah?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir! the pangs of a guilty conscience will not suffer him to +sleep; and death only will end his miserable existence." + +Which certainly had the air of an undoubted truth. + +"See!" said Mr. Roundjacket, relapsing into the pathetic--"see how +my unfortunate offspring has been mangled--maimed--a statutory +offence--mayhem!--see Bacon's Abridgment, page ----; but I wander. +See," continued Roundjacket, "that is all that is left of the +original." + +"Yes, sir," said Verty. + +"The very first line is unrecognizable." + +And Roundjacket put his handkerchief to his eyes and sniffled. + +Verty tried not to smile. + +"It's very unfortunate, sir," he said; "but perhaps the paper--I mean +yours--was not written plain." + +"Written plain!" cried Roundjacket, suppressing his feelings. + +"Yes, sir--the manuscript, I believe, it is called." + +"Well, no--it was not written plain--of course not." + +Verty looked surprised, spite of his own suggestion. + +"I thought you wrote as plain as print, Mr. Roundjacket." + +"I do." + +"Why then--?" + +"Not do so in the present instance, do you mean?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Young man," said Roundjacket, solemnly, "it is easy to see that you +are shockingly ignorant of the proprieties of life--or you never would +have suggested such a thing." + +"What thing, sir?" + +"Plain writing in an author." + +"Oh!" said Verty. + +"Mark me," continued Roundjacket, with affecting gravity, "the +unmistakable evidence of greatness is not the brilliant eye, the fine +forehead, or the firm-set lip; neither is the 'lion port' or +noble carriage--it is far more simple, sir. It lies wholly in the +hand-writing." + +"Possible, sir?" + +"Yes; highly probable even. No great man ever yet wrote legibly, and +I hold that such a thing is conclusive evidence of a narrowness of +intellect. Great men uniformly use a species of scrawl which people +have to study, sir, before they can understand. Like the Oracles of +Delphos, the manuscript is mysterious because it is profound. My own +belief, sir, is, that Homer's manuscript--if he had one, which I +doubt--resembled a sheet of paper over which a fly with inked feet has +crawled;--and you may imagine, sir, the respect, and, I may add, the +labor, of the old Greek type-setters in publishing the first edition +of the Iliad." + +This dissertation had the effect of diverting Mr. Roundjacket's mind +temporarily from his affliction; but his grief soon returned in full +force again. + +"To think it!" he cried, flourishing his ruler, and ready to +weep,--"to think that after taking all the trouble to disguise my +clear running hand, and write as became an author of my standing--in +hieroglyphics--to think that this should be the result of all my +trouble." + +Roundjacket sniffed. + +"Don't be sorry," said Verty. + +"I cannot refrain, sir," said Roundjacket, in a tone of acute agony; +"it is more than I can bear. See here, sir, again: 'High Jove! great +father!' is changed into 'By Jove, I'd rather!' and so on. Sir, it +is more than humanity can bear; I feel that I shall sink under it. I +shall be in bed to-morrow, sir--after all my trouble--'By Jove!'" + +With this despairing exclamation Roundjacket let his head fall, +overcome with grief, upon his desk, requesting not to be spoken to, +after the wont of great unfortunates. + +Verty seemed to feel great respect for this overwhelming grief; at +least he did not utter any commonplace consolations. He also leaned +upon his desk, and his idle hands traced idle lines upon the paper +before him. + +His dreamy eyes, full of quiet pleasure, fixed themselves upon the far +distance--he was thinking of Redbud. + +He finally aroused himself, however, and began to work. Half an hour, +an hour, another hour passed--Verty was breaking himself into the +traces; he had finished his work. + +He rose, and going to Mr. Rushton's door, knocked and opened it. The +lawyer was not there; Verty looked round--his companion was absorbed +in writing. + +Verty sat down in the lawyer's arm-chair. + + + +CHAPTER L. + +HOW VERTY DISCOVERED A PORTRAIT, AND WHAT ENSUED. + + +For some time the young man remained motionless and silent, thinking +of Redbud, and smiling with the old proverbial delight of lovers, +as the memory of her bright sweet face, and kind eyes, came to his +thoughts. + +There was now no longer any doubt, assuredly, that he was what was +called "in love" with Redbud; Verty said as much to himself, and we +need not add that when this circumstance occurs, the individual who +comes to such conclusion, is no longer his own master, or the master +of his heart, which is gone from him. + +For as it is observable that persons often imagine themselves affected +with material ailments when there is no good ground for such a +supposition; so, on the other hand, is it true that those who labor +under the disease of love are the last to know their own condition. +As Verty, therefore, came to the conclusion that he must be "in love" +with Redbud, we may form a tolerably correct idea of the actual fact. + +Why should he not love her? Redbud was so kind, so tender; her large +liquid eyes were instinct with such deep truth and goodness; in her +fresh, frank face there was such radiant joy, and purity, and love! +Surely, a mortal sin to do otherwise than love her! And Verty +congratulated himself on exemption from this sad sin of omission. + +He sat thus, looking with his dreamy smile through the window, across +which the shadows of the autumn trees flitted and played. Listlessly +he took up a pen, nibbed the feather with his old odd smile, and began +to scrawl absently on the sheet of paper lying before him. + +The words he wrote there thus unconsciously, were some which he had +heard Redbud utter with her soft, kind voice, which dwelt in his +memory. + +"Trust in God." + +This Verty wrote, scarcely knowing he did so; then he threw down the +pen, and reclining in the old lawyer's study chair, fell into one of +those Indian reveries which the dreamy forests seem to have taught the +red men. + +As the young man thus reclined in the old walnut chair, clad in his +forest costume, with his profuse tangled curls, and smiling lips, and +half-closed eyes, bathed in the vagrant gleams of golden sunlight, +even Monsignor might have thought the picture not unworthy of his +pencil. But he could not have reproduced the wild, fine picture; for +in Verty's face was that dim and dreamy smile which neither pencil nor +words can describe on paper or canvas. + +At last he roused himself, and waked to the real life around +him--though his thoughtful eyes were still overshadowed. + +He looked around. + +He had never been alone in Mr. Rushton's sanctum before, and naturally +regarded the objects before him with curiosity. + +There was an old press, covered with dust and cobwebs, on the top of +which huge volumes of Justinian's Institutes frowned at the ceiling; a +row of shelves which were crammed with law books; an old faded carpet +covered with ink-splotches on his right hand, splotches evidently +produced by the lawyer's habit of shaking the superfluous ink from his +pen before he placed it upon the paper; a dilapidated chair or two; +the rough walnut desk at which he sat, covered with papers, open law +volumes, and red tape; and finally, a tall mantel-piece, on which +stood a half-emptied ink bottle--which mantel-piece rose over a wide +fire-place, surrounded with a low iron fender, on which a dislocated +pair of tongs were exposed in grim resignation to the evils of old +age. + +There was little to interest Verty in all this--or in the old +iron-bound trunks in the corners. + +But his eye suddenly falls on a curtain, in the recess farthest from +the door--the edge of a curtain; for the object which this curtain +conceals, is not visible from the chair in which he sits. + +Verty rises, and goes into the recess, and looks. + +The curtain falls over a picture--Verty raises it, and stands in +admiration before the portrait, which it covered. + +"What a lovely child!" he exclaims. "I have never seen a prettier +little girl in all my life! What beautiful hair she has!" + +And Verty, with the curtain in his left hand, blows away the dust from +the canvas. + +The portrait is indeed exquisite. The picture represents a child of +two or three years of age, of rare and surpassing beauty. Over its +white brow hang long yellow ringlets--the eyes dance and play--the +ripe, ruddy lips, resembling cherries, are wreathed with the careless +laughter of infancy. The child wears a little blue frock which permits +two round, fat arms to be seen; and one of the hands grasps a doll, +drawn to the life. There is so much freshness and reality about the +picture, that Verty exclaims a second time, "What a lovely little +girl!" + +Thus absorbed in the picture, he does not hear a growling voice in the +adjoining room--is not conscious of the heavy step advancing toward +the room he occupies--does not even hear the door open as the new +comer enters. + +"Who can she be!" murmurs the young man; "not Mr. Rushton's little +daughter--I never heard that he was married, or had any children. +Pretty little thing!" + +And Verty smiled. + +Suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a gruff, stern +voice said: + +"What are you doing, sir?" + +Verty turned quickly; Mr. Rushton stood before him--gloomy, +forbidding, with a heavy frown upon his brow. + +"What are you prying into?" repeated the lawyer, angrily; "are you not +aware, sir, that this is my private apartment? What has induced you to +presume in such a manner?" + +Verty was almost terrified by the sternness of these cold words, and +looked down. Then conscious of the innocence of his action, raised his +eyes, and said: + +"I came in to give you the copy of the deed, sir,--and saw the +curtain--and thought I would--" + +"Pry into my secrets," said Mr. Rushton; "very well, sir!" + +"I did not mean to pry," said Verty, proudly; "I did not think there +was any harm in such a little thing. I hope, sir, you will not think +I meant anything wrong," added Verty--"indeed I did not; and I only +thought this was some common picture, with a curtain over it to keep +off the dust." + +But the lawyer, with a sudden change of manner, had turned his eyes to +the portrait; and did not seem to hear the exclamation. + +"I hope you will not think hard of me, Mr. Rushton," said Verty; "you +have been very good to me, and I would not do anything to offend you +or give you pain." + +No answer was vouchsafed to this speech either. The rough lawyer, +with more and more change in his expression, was gazing at the fresh +portrait, the curtain of which Verty had thrown over one of the upper +corners of the frame. + +Verty followed the look of Mr. Rushton; and gazed upon the picture. + +"It is very lovely," he said, softly; "I never saw a sweeter face." + +The lawyer's breast heaved. + +"And what ringlets--I believe they call 'em," continued Verty, +absorbed in contemplating the portrait;--"I love the pretty little +thing already, sir." + +Mr. Rushton sat down in the chair, which Verty had abandoned, and +covered his face. + +"Did you know her?--but oh, I forgot!--how wrong in me!" murmured +Verty; "I did not think that she might be--Mr. Rushton--forgive my--" + +The lawyer, with his face still covered, motioned toward the door. + +"Must I go, sir?" + +"Yes--go," came from the lips which uttered a groan--a groan of such +anguish, that Verty almost groaned in unison. + +And murmuring "Anna! Anna!" the lawyer shook. + +The young man went toward the door. As he opened it, he heard an +exclamation behind him. + +He turned his head. + +"What's this!" cried the lawyer, in a tone between a growl and a sob. + +"What, sir?" + +"This paper." + +"Sir?" + +"This paper with--with--'Trust in God' on it; did you write it?" + +"I--I--must--yes--I suppose I did, sir," stammered Verty, almost +alarmed by the tone of his interlocutor. + +"What did you mean?" + +"Nothing, sir!" + +"You had the boldness to write this canting--hypocritical--" + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"You wrote it?" + +"Yes, sir; and it is right, though I did'nt mean to write it--or know +it." + +"Very grand!" + +"Sir?" + +"You bring your wretched--" + +"Oh, I did'nt know I wrote it even, sir! But indeed that is not right, +sir. All of us ought to trust in God, however great our afflictions +are, sir." + +"Go!" cried the lawyer, rising with a furious gesture--"away, sir! +Preach not to me--you may be right--but take your sermons elsewhere. +Look there, sir! at that portrait!--look at me now, a broken +man--think that--but this is folly! Leave me to myself!" + +And strangling a passionate sob, the lawyer sank again into his chair, +covering his face. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +A CHILD AND A LOGICIAN. + + +To describe the astonishment of Verty, as he hastily went out and +closed the door, would be impossible. His face passed from red to +pale, his eyes were full of bewilderment--he sat down, scarcely +knowing what he did, + +Roundjacket sat writing at his desk, and either had not heard, or +pretended that he had not, any portion of the passionate colloquy. + +Verty could do nothing all day, for thinking of the astonishing scene +he had passed through. Why should there be anything offensive in +raising the curtain of a portrait? Why should so good a man as Mr. +Rushton, address such insulting and harsh words to him for such a +trifling thing? How was it possible that the simple words, 'Trust in +God,' had been the occasion of such anger, nay, almost fury? + +The longer Verty pondered, the less he understood; or at least he +understood no better than before, which amounted precisely to no +understanding at all. + +He got through his day after a very poor fashion; and, going along +under the evening skies, cudgelled his brains, for the thousandth +time, for some explanation of this extraordinary circumstance. In +vain! the explanation never came; and finding himself near Apple +Orchard, the young man determined to banish the subject, and go in and +see Redbud. + +The young girl had been imprudent in remaining out so late, on the +preceding evening, and her cold had returned, with slight fever, +which, however, gave her little inconvenience. + +She lay upon the sofa, near the open window, with a shawl over her +feet, and, when Verty entered, half-rose, only giving him her hand +tenderly. + +Verty sat down, and they began, to talk in the old, friendly way; and, +as the evening deepened, to laugh and mention old things which they +both remembered--uniting thus in the dim twilight all the golden +threads which bind the present to the past--gossamer, which are not +visible by the glaring daylight, but are seen when the soft twilight +descends on the earth. + +Redbud even, at Verty's request, essayed one of the old Scottish songs +which he was fond of; and the gentle carol filled the evening with its +joy and musical delight. This was rather dangerous in Verty--surely +he was quite enough in love already! Why should he rivet the fetters, +insist upon a new set of shackles, and a heavier chain! + +Verty told Redbud of the singular circumstance of the morning, and +demanded an explanation. Her wonder was as great as his own, however; +and she remained silently gazing at the sunset, and pondering. A shake +of the head betrayed her want of success in this attempt to unravel +the mystery, especially the lawyer's indignation at the words written +by Verty. + +They passed from this to quite a grave discussion upon the truth of +the maxim in question, which Redbud and her companion, we may imagine, +did not differ upon. The girl had just said--"For you know, Verty, +everything is for the best, and we should not murmur,"--when a gruff +voice at the door replied: + +"Pardon me, Miss Redbud--that is a pretty maxim--nothing more, +however." + +And Mr. Rushton, cold and impassable, came in with the jovial Squire. + +"So busy talking, young people, that you could not even look out the +window when I approach with visitors, eh?" cried the Squire, chuckling +Miss Redbud under the chin, and driving the breath out of Verty's body +by a friendly slap upon that gentleman's back. "Well, here we are, and +there's Lavinia--bless her heart--with an expression which indicates +protestation at the loudness of my voice, ha! ha!" + +And the Squire laughed in a way which shook the windows. + +Miss Lavinia smiled in a solemn manner, and busied herself about tea. + +Redbud turned to Mr. Rushton, who had seated himself with an +expression of grim reserve, and, smiling, said: + +"I did not hear you--exactly what you said--as you came in, you know, +Mr. Rushton--" + +"I said that your maxim, 'All is for the best,' is a pretty maxim, and +no more," replied the lawyer, regarding Verty with an air of rough +indifference, as though he tad totally forgotten the scene of the +morning. + +"I'm sure you are wrong, sir," Redbud said. + +"Very likely--to be taught by a child!" grumbled the lawyer. + +Redbud caught the words. + +"I know I ought not to dispute with you, sir," she said; "but what I +said is in the Bible, and you know that cannot contain what is not +true." + +"Hum!" said Mr. Rushton. "That was an unhappy age--and the philosophy +of Voltaire and Rousseau had produced its effect even on the strongest +minds." + +"God does all for the best, and He is a merciful and loving Being," +said Redbud. "Even if we suffer here, in this world, every affliction, +we know that there is a blessed recompense in the other world." + +"Humph!--how?" said the skeptic. + +"By faith?" + +"What is faith?" he said, looking carelessly at the girl. + +"I don't know that I can define it better than belief and trust in +God," said Redbud. + +These were the words which Verty had written on the paper. + +The glance of the lawyer fell upon the young man's face, and from +it passed to the innocent countenance of Redbud. She had evidently +uttered the words without the least thought of the similarity. + +"Humph," said the lawyer, frowning, "that is very fine, Miss; but +suppose we cannot see anything to give us a very lively--faith, as you +call it." + +"Oh, but you may, sir!" + +"How?" + +"Everywhere there are evidences of God's goodness and mercy. You +cannot doubt that." + +A shadow passed over the rough face. + +"I do doubt it," was on his lips, but he could not, rude as he was, +utter such a sentence in presence of the pure, childlike girl. + +"Humph," he said, with his habitual growl, "suppose a man is made +utterly wretched in this world--" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And without any fault of his own suffers horribly," continued the +lawyer, sternly. + +"We are all faulty, sir." + +"I mean--did anybody ever hear such reasoning! Excuse me, but I am a +little out of sorts," he growled, apologetically--"I mean that you +may suppose a man to suffer some peculiar torture--torture, you +understand--which he has not deserved. I suppose that has happened; +how can such a man have your faith, and love, and trust, and all +that--if we must talk theology!" growled the bearish speaker. + +"But, Mr. Rushton," said Redbud, "is not heaven worth all the world +and its affections?" + +"Yes--your heaven is." + +"_My_ heaven--?" + +"Yes, yes--heaven!" cried the lawyer, impatiently--"everybody's heaven +that chooses. But you were about to say--" + +"This, sir: that if heaven is so far above earth, and those who are +received there by God, enjoy eternal happiness--" + +"Very well!" + +"That this inestimable gift is cheaply bought by suffering in this +world;--that the giver of this great good has a right to try even to +what may seem a cruel extent, the faith and love of those for whom he +decrees this eternal bliss. Is not that rational, sir?" + +"Yes, and theological--what, however, is one to do if the said love +and faith sink and disappear--are drowned in tears, or burnt up in the +fires of anguish and despair." + +"Pray, sir," said Redbud, softly. + +The lawyer growled. + +"To whom? To a Being whom we have no faith in--whom such a man has no +faith in, I mean to say--to the hand that struck--which we can +only think of as armed with an avenging sword, or an all-consuming +firebrand! Pray to one who stands before us as a Nemesis of wrath and +terror, hating and ready to crush us?--humph!" + +And the lawyer wiped his brow. + +"Can't we think of the Creator differently," said Redbud, earnestly. + +"How?" + +"As the Being who came down upon the earth, and suffered, and wept +tears of blood, was buffeted and crowned with thorns, and crucified +like a common, degraded slave--all because he loved us, and would not +see us perish? Oh! Mr. Rushton, if there are men who shrink from the +terrible God--who cannot love _that_ phase of the Almighty, why should +they not turn to the Saviour, who, God as he was, came down and +suffered an ignominious death, because he loved them--so dearly loved +them!" + +Mr. Rushton was silent for a moment; then he said, coldly: + +"I did not intend to talk upon these subjects--I only intended to say, +that trusting in Providence, as the phrase is, sounds very grand; and +has only the disadvantage of not being very easy. Come, Miss Redbud, +suppose we converse on the subject of flowers, or something that is +more light and cheerful." + +"Yes, sir, I will; but I don't think anything is more cheerful than +Christianity, and I love to talk about it. I know what you say about +the difficulty of trusting wholly in God, is true; it is very hard. +But oh! Mr. Rushton, believe me, that such trust will not be in vain; +even in this world Our Father often shows us that he pities our +sufferings, and His hand heals the wound, or turns aside the blow. Oh, +yes, sir! even in this world the clouds are swept away, and the sun +shines again; and the heart which has trusted in God finds that its +trust was not in vain in the Lord. Oh! I'm sure of it, sir!--I feel +it--I know that it is _true_!" + +And Redbud, buried in thought, looked through the window--silent, +after these words which we have recorded. + +The lawyer only looked strangely at her--muttered his "humph," and +turned away. Verty alone saw the spasm which he had seen in the +morning pass across the rugged brow. + +While this colloquy had been going on, the Squire had gone into his +apartment to wash his hands; and now issuing forth, requested an +explanation of the argument he had heard going on. This explanation +was refused with great bearishness by the lawyer, and Redbud said they +had only been talking about Providence. + +The Squire said that was a good subject; and then going to his +escritoire took out some papers, placed them on the mantel-piece, and +informed Mr. Rushton that those were the documents he desired. + +The lawyer greeted this information with his customary growl, and +taking them, thrust them into his pocket. He then made a movement to +go; but the Squire persuaded him to stay and have a cup of tea. Verty +acquiesced in his suggestion that _he_ should spend the evening, with +the utmost readiness--_ma mere_ would not think it hard if he remained +an hour, he said. + +And so the cheerful meal was cheerfully spread, and the twigs in the +fire-place crackled, and diffused their brief, mild warmth through +the cool evening air, and Caesar yawned upon the rug, and all went +merrily. + +The old time-piece overhead ticked soberly, and the soft face of +Redbud's mother looked down from its frame upon them; and the room was +full of cheerfulness and light. + +And still the old clock ticked and ticked, and carried all the world +toward eternity; the fire-light crackled, and the voices laughed;--the +portrait looked serenely down, and smiled. + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +HOW MR. JINKS DETERMINED TO SPARE VERTY. + + +Ralph stretched himself. + +Mr. Jinks sipped his rum, and ruminated. + +Ralph was smiling; Mr. Jinks scowling, and evidently busy with great +thoughts, which caused his brows to corrugate into hostile frowns. + +It was the room of Mr. Jinks, in Bousch's tavern, which saw the +companions seated thus opposite to each other--the time, after +breakfast; the aim of the parties, discussion upon any or every topic. + +Mr. Jinks was clad in his habitual costume: half dandy, half +_militaire_; and when he moved, his great sword rattled against his +grasshopper legs in a way terrifying to hear. + +Ralph, richly dressed as usual, and reclining in his chair, smiled +lazily, and looked at the scowling Mr. Jinks. The apartment in which +the worthies were seated was one possessing the advantages of dormer +windows, and an extensive prospect over the roofs of Winchester; the +furniture was rough; and in the corner a simple couch stood, whereon +Mr. Jinks reposed himself at night. + +While the various events which we have lately adverted to have been +occurring, Mr. Jinks has not forgotten that triple and grand revenge +he swore. + +Mr. Jinks has un-christian feelings against three persons, for three +reasons: + +First, against Verty: the cause being that gentleman's defiance and +disregard of himself on various occasions; also his rivalry in love. + +Second, against Miss Sallianna: beautiful and perfidious; the cause: +slights put on his youthful love. + +Third, against O'Brallaghan; the cause: impudence on various +occasions, and slanderous reports relating to cabbaged cloth since the +period of their dissolving all connection with each other. + +Mr. Jinks has revolved, in the depths of his gloomy soul, these +darling projects, and has, perforce of his grand faculty of invention, +determined upon his course in two out of the three affairs. + +Verty annoys him, however. Mr. Jinks has ceased to think of a brutal, +ignoble contest with vulgar fists or weapons ever since the muzzle of +Verty's rifle invaded his ruffles on the morning of his woes. He would +have a revenge worthy of himself--certain, complete, and above all, +quite safe. Mr. Jinks would wile the affections of Miss Redbud from +him, fixing the said affections on himself; but that is not possible, +since the young lady in question has gone home, and Apple Orchard is +too far to walk. Still Mr. Jinks does not despair of doing something; +and this something is what he seeks and ruminates upon, as the mixed +rum and water glides down his throat. + +Ralph yawns, laughs, and kicks his heels. + +Then he rises; goes to the mantel-piece and gets a pipe; and begins to +smoke--lazier than ever. + +Mr. Jinks sets down his cup, and murmurs. + +"Hey!" cries Ralph, sending out a cloud of smoke, "what are you +groaning about, my dear fellow?" + +"I want money," says Mr. Jinks. + +"For what?" + +"To buy a horse." + +"A horse?" + +Mr. Jinks nods. + +"What do you want with a horse?" + +"Revenge," replies Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph begins to laugh. + +"Oh, yes," he says, "we spoke of that; against Sallianna. I'll assist +you, my boy. The fact is, I have caught the infection of a friend's +sentiments on Sallianna the divine. I have a cousin who abominates +her. I'll assist you!" + +"No; that affair is arranged," says Mr. Jinks, with gloomy pleasure; +"that will give me no trouble. That young man Verty is the enemy I +allude to. I want revenge." + +And Mr. Jinks rattled his sword. + +Ralph looked with a mischievous expression at his friend. + +"But I say," he observed, "how would a horse come in there? Do you +want to run a-tilt against Sir Verty, eh? That is characteristic of +you, Jinks!" + +"No," says Mr. Jinks, "I have other designs." + +"What are they?" + +"You are reliable!" + +"Reliable! I should say I was! Come, make me your confidant." + +Mr. Jinks complies with this request, and details his plans against +Verty and Redbud's happiness. He would ride to Apple Orchard, and win +his rival's sweetheart's affections; then laugh "triumphantly with +glee." That is Mr. Jinks' idea. + +Ralph thinks it not feasible, and suggests a total abandonment of +revengeful feelings toward Verty. + +"Suppose I sent him a cartel, then," says Mr. Jinks, after a pause. + +"A cartel?" + +"Yes; something like this." + +And taking a preparatory gulp of the rum, Mr. Jinks continues: + +"Suppose I write these words to him: 'A. Jinks, Esq., presents his +compliments to ---- Verty, Esq., and requests to be informed at what +hour Mr. Verty will attend in front of Bousch's tavern, for the +purpose of having himself exterminated and killed? How would that do?" + +Ralph chokes down a laugh, and, pretending to regard Mr. Jinks with +deep admiration, says: + +"An excellent plan--very excellent." + +"You think so?" says his companion, dubiously. + +"Yes, yes; you should, however, be prepared for one thing." + +"What is that?" + +"Mr. Verty's reply." + +"What would that be, sir? He is not a rash young man, I believe?" + +"No--just the contrary. His reply would be courteous and cool." + +"Ah?" + +"He would write under your letter, demanding at what hour you should +kill him--'ten,' or 'twelve,' or 'four in the afternoon'--at which +time he would come and proceed to bloodshed." + +"Bloodshed?" + +"Yes; he's a real Indian devil, although he looks mild, my clear +fellow. If you are going to send the cartel, you might as well do so +at once." + +"No--no--I will think of it," replies Mr. Jinks; "I will spare him a +little longer. There is no necessity for hurry. A plenty of time!" + +And Mr. Jinks clears his throat, and for the present abandons thoughts +of revenge on Verty. + +Ralph sees the change of sentiment, and laughs. + +"Well," he says, "there is something else on your mind, Jinks, my boy; +what is it? No more revenge?" + +"Yes!" + +"Against whom, you epitome of Italian hatred." + +Mr. Jinks frowns, and says: + +"Against O'Brallaghan!" + +"No!" cries Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I, myself, hate that man!" + +"Then we can assist each other." + +"Yes--yes." + +"We can make it nice, and good, and fine," says Mr. Jinks, smacking +his lips over the rum, as if he was imbibing liquid vengeance, and was +pleased with the flavor. + +"No!" cries Ralph again. + +"Yes!" says Mr. Jinks. + +"Revenge, nice and good?" + +"Supreme!" + +"How?" + +"Listen!" + +"Stop a moment, my dear fellow," said Ralph; "don't be hasty." + +And, rising, Ralph went to the door, opened it, and looked out +cautiously, after which, he closed it, and turned the key in the lock; +then he went to the fire-place, and looked up the chimney with a +solemn air of precaution, which was very striking. Then he returned +and took his seat, and with various gurglings of a mysterious nature +in his throat, said: + +"You have a communication to make, Jinks?" + +"I have, sir." + +"In relation to revenge." + +"Yes." + +"Then go on, old fellow; the time is propitious--I am listening." + +And Ralph looked attentively at Mr. Jinks. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + +PROJECTS OF REVENGE, INVOLVING HISTORICAL DETAILS. + + +The companions looked at each other and shook their heads; Mr. Jinks +threateningly, Ralph doubtfully. That gentleman seemed to be dubious +of his friend's ability to prepare a revenge suitable to the deserts +of O'Brallaghan, who had sold his favorite coat. + +Mr. Jinks, however, looked like a man certain of victory. + +"Revenge, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "is of two descriptions. There is the +straight-forward, simple, vulgar hitting at a man, or caning him; and +the quiet, artistic arrangement of a drama, which comes out right, +sir, without fuss, or other exterior effusion." + +And after this masterly distinction, Mr. Jinks raised his head, and +regarded Ralph with pride and complacency. + +"Yes" said the young man; "what you say is very true, my boy; go +on--go on." + +"Genius is shown, sir, in the manner of doing it--" + +"Yes." + +"Of working on the materials around you." + +"True; that is the test of genius; you are right. Now explain your +idea." + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "that is easy. In this town, wherein +we reside--I refer to Winchester--there are two prominent classes, +besides the English-Virginia people." + +"Are there?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Tell me--you mean--" + +"The natives of the Emerald Isle, and those from the land of sour +krout," said Mr. Jinks, with elegant paraphrase. + +"You mean Dutch and Irish?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well; I understand that. Let me repeat: in the town of +Winchester there are two classes, besides the natives--Dutch and +Irish. Is that right? I never was very quick." + +"Just right." + +"Well, tell me about them, and how your revenge is concerned with +them. Tell me all about them. Dutch and Irish!--I know nothing of +them." + +"I will, sir,--I will tell you," said Mr. Jinks, gulping down +one-fourth of his glass of rum; "and, I think, by the time I have +developed my idea, you will agree with me that the revenge I have +chalked out, sir, is worthy of an inventive talent higher than my +own." + +"No, no," said Ralph, in a tone of remonstrance, "you know there could +be none." + +"Yes," said Mr. Jinks, modestly, "I know myself, sir--I have very +little merits, but there are those who are superior to me in that +point." + +Which seemed to mean that the quality of invention was the sole +failing in Mr. Jinks' intellect--all his other mental gifts being +undoubtedly superior to similar gifts in humanity at large. + +"Well, we won't interchange compliments, my dear fellow," replied +Ralph, puffing at his pipe; "go on and explain about the Dutch and +Irish--I repeat, that I absolutely know nothing of them." + +Mr. Jinks sipped his rum, and after a moment's silence, commenced. + +"You must know," he said, "that for some reason which I cannot +explain, there is a quarrel between these people which has lasted a +very long time, and it runs to a great height--" + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes; and on certain days there is a feeling which can only be +characterized by the assertion that the opposite parties desire to +suffuse the streets and public places with each other's gory blood!" + +"No, no!" said Ralph; "is it possible!" + +"Yes, sir, it is more--it is true," said Mr. Jinks, with dignity. "I +myself have been present on such occasions; and the amount of national +feeling displayed is--is--worse than mouldy cloth," observed Mr. +Jinks, at a loss for a simile, and driven, as he, however, very seldom +was, to his profession for an illustration. + +"I wonder at that," said Ralph; "as bad as mouldy cloth? I never would +have thought it!" + +"Nevertheless it's true--dooms true," said Mr. Jinks; "and there +are particular days when the rage of the parties comes up in one +opprobrious concentrated mass!" + +This phrase was borrowed from Miss Sallianna. Mr. Jinks, like other +great men, was not above borrowing without giving the proper credit. + +"On St. Patrick's day," he continued, "the Dutch turn out in a body--" + +"One moment, my dear fellow; I don't like to interrupt you, but this +St. Patrick you speak of--he was the great saint of Ireland, was he +not?" + +"Good--continue; on St. Patrick's day--" + +"The Dutch assemble and parade a figure--you understand, either of +wood or a man--a figure representing St. Patrick--" + +"Possible!" + +"Yes; and round his neck they place a string of Irish potatoes, like a +necklace--" + +"A necklace! what an idea. Not pearls or corals--potatoes!" And Ralph +laughed with an expression of innocent surprise, which was only +adopted on great occasions. + +"Yes," said Mr. Jinks, "of potatoes; and you may imagine what a sight +it is--the saint dressed up in that way." + +"Really! it must be side-splitting." + +"It is productive of much gory sport," said Mr. Jinks. + +"Ah!" said Ralph, "I should think so. Gory is the very word." + +"Besides this they have another figure--" + +"The Dutch have?" + +"Yes." + +"What is it?" + +"It is a woman, sir--" + +"No--no," said Ralph. + +"It is, sir," replied Mr. Jinks, with resolute adherence to his +original declaration,--"it is Saint Patrick's wife, Sheeley--" + +"Oh, no!" cried Ralph. + +"Yes; and she is supplied with a huge apron full of--what do you +think?" + +"Indulgences?" said Ralph. + +"No, sir!" + +"What then?" + +"Potatoes again." + +"Potatoes! Sheeley with her apron full of--" + +"Excellent Irish potatoes." + +"Would anybody have imagined such a desecration!" + +"They do it, sir; and having thus laughed at the Irish, the Dutch go +parading through the streets; and in consequence--" + +"The Irish--?" + +"Yes--" + +"Make bloody noses and cracked crowns, and pass them current, too?" +asked Ralph, quoting from Shakspeare. + +"Yes, exactly," said Mr. Jinks; "and the day on which this takes +place--Saint Patrick's day--is generally submerged in gore!" + +Ralph remained for a moment overcome with horror at this dreadful +picture. + +"Jinks," he said, at last. + +"Sir?" said Mr. Jinks. + +"I fear you are too military and bloody for me. My nerves will not +stand these awful pictures!" + +And Ralph shuddered; or perhaps chuckled. + +"That is only half of the subject," Mr. Jinks said, displaying much +gratification at the deep impression produced upon the feelings of his +companion; "the Irish, on St. Michael's day--the patron saint of the +Dutch, you know--" + +"Yes." + +"The Irish take their revenge." + +And at the word revenge, Mr. Jinks' brows were corrugated into a +dreadful frown. + +Ralph looked curious. + +"How?" he said; "I should think the Dutch had exhausted the power and +capacity of invention. St. Patrick, with a necklace of potatoes, and +his wife Sheeley, with an apron full of the same vegetables, is surely +enough for one day--" + +"Yes, for St. Patrick's day, but not for St. Michael's," said Mr. +Jinks, with a faint attempt at a witticism. + +"Good!" cried Ralph; "you are a wit, Jinks; but proceed! On St. +Michael's day--the patron saint of the Dutch--" + +"On that day, sir, the Irish retort upon the Dutch by parading an +image--wooden or alive--of St. Michael--" + +"No!" + +"An image," continued Mr. Jinks, not heeding this interruption, "which +resembles St. Michael--that is, a hogshead." + +"Yes," laughed Ralph, "I understand how a Dutch saint--" + +"Is fat; that is natural, sir. They dress him in six pair of +pantaloons, which I have heretofore, I am ashamed to say, +fabricated,"--Mr. Jinks frowned here,--"then they hang around his neck +a rope of sour krout--" + +"No, no!" cried Ralph. + +"And so parade him," continued Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph remained silent again, as though overwhelmed by this picture. + +"The consequence is, that the Irish feel themselves insulted," +Mr. Jinks went on, "and they attack the Dutch, and then the whole +street--" + +"Is suffused in gory blood, is it not?" said Ralph, inquiringly. + +"It is, sir," said Mr. Jinks; "and I have known the six pair of +pantaloons, made by my own hands, to be torn to tatters." + +"Possible!" + +"Yes, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, irate at the recollection of those old +scenes--he had been compelled to mend the torn pantaloons more than +once--"yes, sir, and the wretches have proceeded even to shooting and +cutting, which is worthy of them, sir! On some days, the Dutch and +the Irish parade their images together, and then St. Patrick and +St. Michael are brought face to face; and you may understand how +disgraceful a mob they have--a mob, sir, which, as a military man, I +long to mow with iron cannons!" + +And after this dreadful simile, Mr. Jinks remained silent, Ralph also +held his peace for some moments; then he said: + +"But your revenge; how is that connected, my dear fellow, with the +contentions of Dutch and Irish?" + +Mr. Jinks frowned. + +"Thus, sir," he said; "I will explain." "Do; I understand you to say +that these customs of the two parties were the materials upon which +your genius would work. How can you--" + +"Listen, sir," said Mr. Jinks. + +"I'm all ears," returned Ralph. + +"Three days from this time," said Mr. Jinks, "these people have +determined to have a great parade, and each of them, the Dutch and +Irish, to exhibit the images of the Saints--" + +"Yes--ah?" said Ralph. + +"It is fixed for the time I mention; and now, sir, a few words +will explain how, without damage to myself, or endangering my +person--considerations which I have no right to neglect--my revenge +on the hound, O'Brallaghan, will come out right! Listen, while I tell +about it; then, sir, judge if the revenge is likely to be nice and +good!" + +And Mr. Jinks scowled, and gulped down some rum. He then paused a +moment, stared the fire-place out of countenance, and scowled again. +He then opened his lips to speak. + +But just as he uttered the first words of his explanation, a knock was +heard at the door, which arrested him. + +Ralph rose and opened it. + +A negro handed him a note, with the information, that the bearer +thereof was waiting below, and would like to see him. + +Ralph opened the letter, and found some money therein, which, with the +signature, explained all. + +"Jinks, my boy," he said, laughing, "we must defer your explanation; +come and go down. The Governor has sent me a note, and Tom is waiting. +Let us descend." + +Mr. Jinks acquiesced. + +They accordingly went down stairs, and issued forth. + +At the door of the tavern was standing a negro, who, at sight of +Ralph, respectfully removed his cap with one hand, while the other arm +leaned on the neck of a donkey about three feet high, which had borne +the stalwart fellow, as such animals only can. + +The negro gave Mr. Ralph a message, in addition to the letter, of no +consequence to our history, and received one in return. + +He then bowed again, and was going to mount and ride away, when Ralph +said, "Stop, Tom!" + +Tom accordingly stopped. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +EXPLOITS OF FODDER. + + +Ralph looked from the donkey to Mr. Jinks, and from Mr. Jinks to the +donkey; then he laughed. + +"I say, my dear fellow," he observed, "you wanted a horse, did'nt +you?" + +"I did, sir," said Mr. Jinks. + +"What do you say to a donkey?" + +Mr. Jinks appeared thoughtful, and gazing at the sky, as though the +clouds interested him, replied: + +"I have no objection to the animal, sir. It was in former times, I am +assured, the animal used by kings, and even emperors. Far be it from +me, therefore, to feel any pride--or look down on the donkey." + +"You'll have to," said Ralph. + +"Have to what, sir?" + +"Look down on Fodder here--we call him Fodder at the farm, because the +rascal won't eat thistles." + +"Fodder, sir?" said Mr. Jinks, gazing along the road, as though in +search of some wagon, laden with cornstalks. + +"The donkey!" + +"Ah?--yes--true--the donkey! Really, a very handsome animal," said Mr. +Jinks, appearing to be aware of the existence of Fodder for the first +time. + +"I asked you how you would like a donkey, instead of a horse, meaning, +in fact, to ask if Fodder would, for the time, answer your warlike and +gallant purposes? If so, my dear fellow, I'll lend him to you--Tom can +go back to the farm in the wagon--it comes and goes every day." + +Tom looked at Mr. Jinks' legs, scratched his head, and grinning from +ear to ear, added the assurance that he was rather pleased to get rid +of Fodder, who was too small for a man of his weight. + +Mr. Jinks received these propositions and assurances, at first, with a +shake of the head: he really could not deprive, etc.; then he looked +dubious; then he regarded Fodder with admiration and affection; then +he assented to Ralph's arrangement, and put his arm affectionately +around Fodder's neck. + +"I love that animal already!" cried the enthusiastic Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph turned aside to laugh. + +"That is highly honorable, Jinks, my boy," he said; "there's no trait +of character more characteristic of a great and exalted intellect, +than kindness to animals." + +"You flatter me, sir." + +"Never--I never flatter. Now, Tom," continued Ralph to the negro," +return homeward, and inform my dear old Governor that, next week, +I shall return, temporarily, to make preparations for my marriage. +Further, relate to him the fate of Fodder--go, sir." + +And throwing Tom, who grinned and laughed, a piece of silver, Ralph +turned again to Jinks. + +"Do you like Fodder?" he said. + +"I consider him the paragon of donkeys," returned Mr. Jinks. + +And, hugging the donkey's neck--"Eh, Fodder?" said Jinks. + +Fodder turned a sleepy looking eye, which was covered with the broad, +square leather of the wagon-bridle, toward Mr. Jinks, and regarded +that gentleman with manifest curiosity. Then shaking his head, lowered +it again, remonstrating with his huge ears against the assaults of the +flies. + +"He likes you already! he admires and respects you, Jinks!" cried +Ralph, bursting into a roar of laughter; "a ride! a ride! mount, sir!" + +"Is he vicious?" asked Mr. Jinks. + +"Hum! he _has_ been known to--to--do dreadful things!" said Ralph, +choking. + +Mr. Jinks drew back. + +"But he won't hurt you--just try." + +"Hum! I'd rather test his character first," said Mr. Jinks; "of course +I'm not afraid; it would be unnecessary for me to prove that, sir--I +wear a sword--" + +"Oh, yes?" + +"But dangerous accidents have frequently resulted from--" + +"Donkeys? you are right. But suppose I mount with you!" said Ralph, +who had fallen into one of his mischievous moods. + +"Hum! sir--will he carry double, do you think?" + +"Carry double! He'd carry a thousand--Fodder would! Just get into +the saddle, and I'll put my handkerchief on his back, and mount +behind--I'll guide him. Come!" + +And Ralph, with a suppressed chuckle, pushed Mr. Jinks toward the +saddle. + +Mr. Jinks looked round--cleared his throat--glanced at the expression +of the donkey's eyes--and endeavored to discover from the movement of +his ears if he was vicious. Fodder seemed to be peaceful--Mr. Jinks +got into the saddle, his grasshopper legs reaching nearly to the +ground. + +"Now!" cried Ralph, vaulting behind him, "now for a ride!" + +And seizing the reins, before Mr. Jinks could even get his feet into +the stirrups, the young man kicked the donkey vigorously, and set off +at a gallop. + +Mr. Jinks leaned forward in the saddle with loud cries, balancing +himself by the pummel, and holding on to the mane. Fodder was +frightened by the cries, and ran like a race-horse, kicking up his +heels, and indeed rendered Ralph's position somewhat perilous. But +that gentleman was experienced, from earliest infancy, in riding +bareback, and held on. He also held Mr. Jinks on. + +The great swordsman continued to utter loud cries, and to remonstrate +piteously. Only the clatter of his sword, and Ralph's shouts of +laughter, answered him. + +Still on! and in five minutes Fodder was opposite the store of +O'Brallaghan. + +A brilliant idea suddenly struck Ralph; with the rapidity and presence +of mind of a great general, he put it into execution. + +Fodder found one rein loosened--the other drawn violently round; the +consequence was, that from a straight course, he suddenly came to +adopt a circular one. Mr. Jinks had just saved himself by wrapping his +legs, so to speak, around the donkey's person, when Ralph's design was +accomplished. + +Fodder, obeying the pull upon the rein, sweeped down upon +O'Brallaghan's shop, and in the midst of the cries of babies, the +barking of dogs, and the shrill screams of elderly ladies, entered +the broad door of the clothes-warehouse, and thrust his nose into Mr. +O'Brallaghan's face, just as that gentleman was cutting out the sixth +pair of pantaloons for himself, in which he was to personate St. +Michael. + +O'Brallaghan staggered back--Ralph burst into a roar of laughter, and +sliding from Fodder, ignominiously retreated, leaving Mr. Jinks and +O'Brallaghan face to face. + +The scene which then ensued is dreadful to even reflect upon, after +the lapse of so many years. Fodder backed into the street immediately, +but he had accomplished the insult to O'Brallaghan. That gentleman ran +out furiously, shears in hand, and with these instruments it seemed to +be his intention to sever the epiglottis of Mr. Jinks, or at least his +ears. + +But, as on a former occasion, when Mr. Jinks threatened to rid the +earth of a scoundrel and a villain, the execution of this scheme was +prevented by the interposition of a third party; so on the present +occasion did the neighbors interfere and quiet the combatants. + +Ralph perfected the reconciliation by declaring that Fodder was +the most vicious and dangerous of animals, and that no one could +rationally wonder at his conduct on this occasion. + +O'Brallaghan thereupon observed that he despised Mr. Jinks too much to +touch him, and would forgive him; and so he elbowed his way through +the crowd of gossips and re-entered his shop, scowling at, and being +scowled at by, the severe Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph also embraced the opportunity to slip through the crowd, and +hasten round a corner; having achieved which movement, he leaned +against a pump, and laughed until two babies playing on the side-walk +nearly choked themselves with marbles as they gazed at him. Then +chuckling to himself, the young-worthy returned toward the tavern, +leaving Mr. Jinks to his fate. + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +WOMAN TRAPS LAID BY MR. JINKS. + + +No sooner had O'Brallaghan retreated into his store, than Mr. Jinks +cast after him defiant words and gestures, calling on the crowd to +take notice that O'Brallaghan had ignominiously yielded ground, and +declined his, Mr. Jinks', proposition to have a combat. + +If any wonder is felt at Mr. Jinks' bravery, we may dispel it, +probably, by explaining that Mr. O'Brallaghan had two or three months +before been bound over in a large sum to keep the peace of the +commonwealth against the inhabitants of the said commonwealth, +and especially that portion of them who dwelt in the borough of +Winchester; which fact Mr. Jinks was well acquainted with, and shaped +his conduct by. If there was anything which O'Brallaghan preferred to +a personal encounter with fists or shillelahs, that object was money; +and Mr. Jinks knew that O'Brallaghan would not touch him. + +Therefore Mr. Jinks sent words of defiance and menace after the +retreating individual, and said to the crowd, with dignified calmness: + +"My friends, I call you to bear witness that I have offered to give +this--this--person," said Mr. Jinks, "the amplest satisfaction in my +power for the unfortunate conduct of my animal, which I have just +purchased at a large sum, and have not exactly learned to manage yet. +We have not come to understand each other--myself and Fodder--just +yet; and in passing with a young man whom I kindly permitted to mount +behind me, the animal ran into the shop of this--individual. If he +wants satisfaction!" continued Mr. Jinks, frowning, and laying his +hand upon his sword, "he can have it, sir! yes, sir! I am ready, +sir!--now and always, sir!" + +These words were ostensibly addressed to Mr. O'Brallaghan, who was, +in contempt of Mr. Jinks, busily engaged at his work again; but, in +reality, the whole harangue of Mr. Jinks was intended for the ears of +a person in the crowd, who, holding a hot "iron" in her hand, had run +up, like the rest, when the occurrence first took place. + +This person, who was of the opposite sex, and upon whom Mr. Jinks +evidently desired to produce an impression, gazed at the cavalier with +tender melancholy in her ruddy face, and especially regarded the legs +of Mr. Jinks with unconcealed admiration. + +It was Mistress O'Calligan, the handsome ruddy lady, whom we have +met with once before, on that day when Mr. Jinks, remembering +O'Brallaghan's incapacity to fight, challenged that gentleman to +mortal combat. + +Between this lady and Mr. Jinks, on the present occasion, glances +passed more than once; and when--O'Brallaghan not appearing--Mr. Jinks +rode away from the shop of the dastard, in dignified disgust, he +directed the steps of Fodder, cautiously and gently, around the +corner, and stopped before the door of Mistress O'Calligan's lodging. + +The lamented O'Calligan was gone to that bourne which we all know of, +and his widow now supported herself and the two round, dirty-faced +young gentlemen who had choked themselves in their astonishment +at Ralph, by taking in washing and ironing, to which she added, +occasionally, the occupation and mystery of undergarment construction. + +Thanks to these toils, Mistress O'Calligan, who was yet young and +handsome, and strong and healthy, had amassed a very snug little sum +of money, which she had invested in a garden, numerous pigs, chickens, +and other things; and, in the neighborhood, this lady was regarded +as one destined to thrive in the world; and eventually bring to the +successor of the lamented O'Calligan, not only her fair self, and +good-humored smile included, but also no contemptible portion of this +world's goods. + +O'Brallaghan's ambition was to succeed the lamented. He had long made +unsuccessful court to the lady--in vain. He suspected, not without +justice, that the graceful and military Mr. Jinks had made an +impression on the lady's heart, and hated Mr. Jinks accordingly. + +It was before the low, comfortable cottage of Mistress O'Calligan, +therefore, that Mr. Jinks stopped. And tying Fodder to the pump, he +pushed aside the under-tunics which depended from lines, and were +fluttering in the wind, and so made his entrance into the dwelling. + +Mistress O'Calligan pretended to be greatly surprised and fluttered on +Mr. Jinks' entrance; and laid down the iron she was trying, by putting +her finger in her mouth, and then applying it to the under surface. + +She then smiled; and declared she never was in such a taking; and to +prove this, sat down and panted, and screamed good-humoredly to the +youthful O'Calligans, not to go near that pretty horse; and then asked +Mr. Jinks if he would'nt take something. + +Mr. Jinks said, with great dignity, that he thought he would. + +Thereupon, Mistress O'Calligan produced a flat bottle of poteen, and +pouring a portion for her own fair self, into a cup, said that this +was a wicked world, and handed the flask to Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman took a tolerably large draught; and then setting down +the bottle, scowled. + +This terrified Mistress O'Calligan; and she said so. + +Mr. Jinks explained that he was angry,--in a towering rage; and added, +that nothing but the presence of Mistress O'Calligan had prevented him +from exterminating O'Brallaghan, who was a wretched creature, beneath +the contempt, etc. + +Whereto the lady replied, Really, to think it; but that these feelings +was wrong; and she were only too happy if her presence had prevented +bloodshed. She thought that Mr. Jinks was flattering her--with more of +the same description. + +Thus commenced this interview, which the loving and flattered Mistress +O'Calligan wrongly supposed to be intended as one of courtship, on the +part of Mr. Jinks. She was greatly mistaken. If ever proceeding +was calm, deliberate, and prompted by revengeful and diabolical +intentions, the proceeding of Mr. Jinks, on the present occasion, was +of that description. + +But none of this appeared upon the countenance of our friend. Mr. +Jinks was himself--he was gallant, impressive; and warming with the +rum, entered into details of his private feelings. + +He had ever admired and venerated--he said--the character of the +beautiful and fascinating Judith O'Calligan, who had alone, and by her +unassisted merits, removed from his character that tendency toward +contempt and undervaluation of women, which, he was mortified to say, +he had been induced to feel from an early disappointment in love. + +Mistress O'Calligan here looked very much flurried, and ejaculated, +Lor! + +Mr. Jinks proceeded to say, that the lady need not feel any concern +for him now; that the early disappointment spoken of, had, it was +true, cast a shadow on his life, which, he imagined, nothing but the +gory blood of his successful rival could remove; that still he, Mr. +Jinks, had had the rare, good fortune of meeting with a divine charmer +who caused him to forget his past sorrows, and again indulge in hopes +of domestic felicity and paternal happiness by the larean altars of +a happy home. That the visions of romance had never pictured such a +person; that the lady whom he spoke of, was well known to the lady +whom he addressed; and, indeed, to be more explicit, was not ten +thousand miles from them at the moment in question. + +This was so very broad, that the "lady" in question blushed the color +of the red bricks in her fire-place, and declared that Mr. Jinks was +the dreadfulest creature, and he need'nt expect to persuade her that +he liked her--no, he need'nt. + +Mr. Jinks repelled the accusation of being a dreadful creature, and +said, that however terrifying his name might be to his enemies among +the men, that no woman had ever yet had cause to be afraid of him, or +to complain of him. + +After which, Mr. Jinks frowned, and took a gulp of the poteen. + +Mistress O'Calligan thought that Mr. Jinks was very wrong to be +talking in such a meaning way to her--and the lamented O'Calligan not +dead two years. That she knew what it was to bestow her affections on +an object, which object did not return them--and never, never could be +brought to trust the future of those blessed dears a-playing on the +side-walk to a gay deceiver. + +After which observation, Mistress O'Calligan took up a corner of +her apron, and made a feint to cry; but not being encouraged by any +consternation, agitation, or objection of any description on the part +of her companion, changed her mind, and smiled. + +Mr. Jinks said that if the paragon of her sex, the lovely Judith, +meant to say that he was a gay deceiver, the assertion in question +involved a mistake of a cruel and opprobrious character. So far from +being a deceiver, he had himself been uniformly deceived; and that in +the present instance, it was much more probable that he would suffer, +because the lovely charmer before him cared nothing for him. + +Which accusation threw the lovely charmer into a flutter, and caused +her to deny the truth of Mr. Jinks' charge; and in addition, to assert +that there existed no proof of the fact that she did'nt care much more +for Mr. Jinks than he did for her--and whether he said she did'nt, or +did'nt say she did'nt, still that this did'nt change the fact: and so +he was mistaken. + +Whereupon Mr. Jinks, imbibing more poteen, replied that assertions, +though in themselves worthy of high respect when they issued from so +lovely and fascinating a source, could still not stand in opposition +to facts. + +Mistress O'Calligan asked what facts. + +Which caused Mr. Jinks to explain. He meant, that the test of +affection was doing one a service; that the loving individual would +perform what the beloved wished; and that here the beautiful Judith +was deficient. + +To which the beautiful Judith, with a preparatory caution to the young +O'Calligans, replied by saying, that she had never been tried; and if +that was all the foundation for such a charge, the best way to prove +its falseness was to immediately test her friendship. + +At this Mr. Jinks brightened up, and leaning over toward the +ruddy-faced Judith, whispered for some minutes. The whispers brought +to the lady's face a variety of expressions: consternation, alarm, +doubt, objection, refusal. Refusal remained paramount. + +Mr. Jinks imbibed more poteen, and observed, with dignity, that he had +been perfectly well aware, before making his communication, that the +protestations of the lady opposite to whom he sat were like those +of ladies in general, calculated to mislead and deceive. He would +therefore not annoy her further, but seek some other-- + +Incipient tears from the lady, who thought Mr. Jinks cruel, +unreasonable, and too bad. + +Mr. Jinks was rational, and had asked a very inconsiderable favor; his +beautiful acquaintance, Miss Sallianna, would not hesitate a moment +to oblige him, and he would therefore respectfully take his +departure--for some time, he was afraid, if not forever. + +Mr. Jinks had played his game with much skill, and great knowledge of +the lady whom he addressed. He brought out his trump, so to speak, +when he mentioned Miss Sallianna, and alluded to his intention never +to return, perhaps. + +The lady could not resist. The moment had arrived when she was to +decide whether she should supply the youthful O'Calligans with a noble +father and protector, or suffer them still to inhabit the dangerous +side-walk in infant helplessness, and exposed to every enemy. + +Therefore the fair Mistress O'Calligan found her resolution +evaporate--her objections removed--she consented to comply with Mr. +Jinks' request, because the object of her affections made it--yes, the +object of her affections for many a long day, through every accusation +of cabbaged cloth, and other things brought by his enemies--the +object of her ambition, the destined recipient of the garden, and the +chickens, and the pigs, when fate removed her! + +And having uttered this speech with great agitation, and numerous +gasps, Mistress O'Calligan yielded to her nerves, and reposed upon Mr. +Jinks' breast. + +Fifteen minutes afterwards Mr. Jinks was going back to Bousch's +tavern, mounted on Fodder, and grimacing. + +"She'll do it, sir! she'll do it!" said Mr. Jinks; "we'll see. Look +out for gory blood, sir!" + +And that was all. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + +TAKES VERTY TO MR. ROUNDJACKET. + + +As Mr. Jinks went along, thus absorbed in his dreams of vengeance, he +chanced to raise his head; which movement made him aware of the fact +that a gentleman with whom he was well acquainted rode in the same +direction with himself--that is to say, toward Bousch's tavern. + +This was Verty, who, absorbed as completely by his own thoughts as was +Mr. Jinks, did not see that gentleman until Cloud very nearly walked +over the diminutive Fodder. + +Mr. Jinks laid his hand on his sword, and frowned; for it was one of +the maxims of this great militaire, that one is never more apt to +escape an attack than when he appears to hold himself in readiness, +and seems prepared for either event. + +Verty did not consider himself bound, however, to engage in a combat +at the moment; and so with grave politeness, bowed and passed on his +way. + +They arrived at the tavern nearly at the same moment. + +Ralph was sitting on the porch, inhaling the fresh October air, gazing +at the bright waves of the little stream which sparkled by beneath +the willows; and at times varying these amusements by endeavoring +to smoke from a pipe which had gone out, He looked the picture of +indolent enjoyment. + +Within a few feet of him sat the ruddy, full-faced landlord, as idle +as himself. + +At sight of Mr. Jinks and Verty, Ralph rose, with a smile, and came +toward them. + +"Ah! my dear Jinks," he said, after bowing to Verty familiarly, "how +did you get out of that scrape? I regret that business of a private +and important nature forced me to leave you, and go round the corner. +How did it result?" + +"Triumphantly, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, dismounting, and, with great +dignity, entrusting Fodder to a stable-boy, lounging near; "that +hound, O'Brallaghan, knew his place, sir, and did not presume to +complain--" + +"Of Fodder?" + +"Of anything, sir." + +"The fact is, it would have been ridiculous. What had he to complain +of, I should like to be informed. So he retreated?" + +"He did, sir," said Mr. Jinks, with dignity, "amid the hisses of the +assembled crowd." + +"Just as I suspected; it would take a bold fellow to force such a Don +Quixote and Dapple, as yourself and Fodder!" + +"Yes; although I regretted," said Mr. Jinks, with great dignity, "the +accident which occurred when we set out, I rejoice at having had an +occasion to inform that Irish conspirator and St. Michael-hater, that +I held him in opprobrious contempt." + +And Mr. Jinks glanced at the landlord. + +"He was making the breeches for St. Michael, whom he is to represent," +said Mr. Jinks, "day after to-morrow; and I have not done with +him--the Irish villain!" + +Mr. Jinks looked again, significantly, at the host. + +That gentleman had not lost a word of the conversation, and his sleepy +eyes now opened. He beckoned to Mr. Jinks. A smile illumined the +countenance of the worthy--the landlord was a German;--the plot +against Irish O'Brallaghan was gaining strength. + +The landlord rose, and, with a significant look, entered the house, +followed by Mr. Jinks, who turned his head, as he disappeared, to cast +a triumphant look upon Ralph. + +No sooner had he passed from sight, than Ralph turned to Verty, who +had sat quietly upon Cloud, during this colloquy, and burst into +laughter. + +"That is the greatest character I have ever known, Verty," he said; +"and I have been amusing myself with him all the morning." + +Verty was thinking, and without paying much attention to Ralph, +smiled, and said: + +"Anan?--yes--" + +"I believe you are dreaming." + +"Oh, no--only thinking," said Verty, smiling; "I can't get out of the +habit, and I really don't think I heard you. But I can't stop. Here's +a note Redbud asked me to give you--for Fanny. She said you might be +going up to old Scowley's--" + +"Might be! I rather think I am! Ah, Miss Redbud, you are a mischievous +one. But why take the trouble to say that of the divine sex? They're +all dangerous, scheming and satirical." + +"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, as he tossed Ralph the note. + +"Don't mind me," said Ralph; "I was just talking, as usual, at random, +and slandering the sex. But what are you sitting there for, my dear +Verty? Get down and come in. I'm dying of weariness." + +Verty shook his head. + +"I must go and see Mr. Roundjacket," he said. + +"What! is he sick?" + +"Yes." + +"Much?" + +Verty smiled. + +"I think not," he said; "but I don't know--I havn't much time; +good-bye." + +And touching Cloud with the spur, Verty went on. Ralph looked +after him for a moment, twirled the note in his fingers, read +the superscription,--"To Miss Fanny Temple,"--and then, laughing +carelessly, lounged into the house, intent on making a third in the +councils of those great captains, Mr. Jinks and the landlord. + +We shall accompany Verty, who rode on quietly, and soon issued from +the town--that is to say, the more bustling portion of it; for +Winchester, at that time, consisted of but two streets, and even these +were mere roads, as they approached the suburbs. + +Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees, +on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in +bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have +induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know, +from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent +little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample +"estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing +needful. + +Verty dismounted, and admiring the beautiful sward, the well tended +flowers, and the graceful appendages of the mansion--from the bronze +knocker, with Minerva's head upon it, to the slight and comfortable +wicker smoking-chairs upon the porch--opened the little gate, and +knocked. + +An old negro woman, who superintended, with the assistance of her +equally aged husband, this bachelor paradise, appeared at the door; +and hearing Verty's request of audience, was going to prefer it to Mr. +Roundjacket. + +This was rendered unnecessary, however, by the gentleman himself. He +called from the comfortable sitting-room to Verty, and the visitor +entered. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + +CONTAINS AN EXTRAORDINARY DISCLOSURE. + + +Roundjacket was clad in a handsome dressing-gown, and was heading, or +essaying to read--for he had the rheumatism in his right shoulder--a +roll of manuscript. Beside him lay a ruler, which he grasped, and made +a movement of hospitable reception with, as Verty came in. + +"Welcome, welcome, my young friend," said Roundjacket; "you see me +laid up, sir" + +"You're not much sick, I hope, sir?" said Verty, taking the arm-chair, +which his host indicated. + +"I am, sir--you are mistaken." + +"I am very sorry." + +"I thank you for your sympathy," said Roundjacket, running his fingers +through his straight hair; "I think, sir I mentioned, the other day, +that I expected to be laid up." + +"Mentioned?" + +"On the occasion, sir--" + +"Oh, the paper!" said Verty, smiling; "you don't mean--" + +"I mean everything," said Roundjacket; "I predicted, on that occasion, +that I expected to be laid up, and I am, sir." + +This was adroit in Roundjacket. It was one of those skillful +equivocations, by means of which a man saves his character for +consistency and judgment, without forfeiting his character for truth. + +"Well, it _was_ very bad," said Verty. + +"Bad is not the word--abominable is the word--disgraceful is the +word!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler, and suddenly dropping +it as a twinge shot through his shoulder. + +"Yes," assented Verty; "but talking about it will make you worse, sir. +Mr. Rushton asked me to come and see how you were this morning." + +"Rushton is thanked," said Mr. Roundjacket,--"Rushton, my young +friend, has his good points--so have I, sir. I nursed him through a +seven month's fever--a perfect bear, sir; but he always is _that_. +Tell him that my arm--that I am nearly well, sir, and that nothing +but my incapacity to write, from--from--the state of my--feelings," +proceeded Roundjacket, "should keep me at home. Observe, my young sir, +that this is no apology. Rushton and myself understand each other. +If I wish to go, I go--or stay away, I stay away. But I like the old +trap, sir, from habit, and rather like the bear himself, upon the +whole." + +With this Mr. Roundjacket attempted to flourish his ruler, from habit, +and groaned. + +"What's the matter, sir?" said Verty. + +"I felt badly at the moment," said Roundjacket; "the fact is, I always +do feel badly when I'm confined thus. I have been trying to wile away +the time with the manuscript of my poem, sir--but it won't do. An +author, sir--mark me--never takes any pleasure in reading his own +writings." + +"Ah?" said Verty. + +"No, sir; the only proper course for authors is to marry." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes: and why, sir?" asked Mr. Roundjacket, evidently with the +intention of answering his own question. + +"I don't know," replied Verty. + +"Because, then, sir, the author may read his work to his wife, which +is a circumstance productive of great pleasure on both sides, you +perceive." + +"It might be, but I think it might'nt, sir?" Verty said. + +"How, might'nt be?" + +"It might be very bad writing--not interesting--such as ought to be +burned, you know," said Verty. + +"Hum!" replied Roundjacket, "there's something in that." + +"If I was to write--but I could'nt--I don't think I would read it to +my wife--if I had a wife," added Verty. + +And he sighed. + +"A wife! you!" cried Mr. Roundjacket. + +"Is there anything wrong in my wishing to marry?" + +"Hum!--yes, sir; there is a certain amount of irrationality in _any_ +body desiring such a thing--not in you especially." + +"Oh, Mr. Roundjacket, you advised me only a few weeks ago to be always +_courting_ somebody--courting was the word; I recollect it." + +"Hum!" repeated Roundjacket; "did I?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, sir, I suppose a man has a right to amend." + +"Anan, sir?" + +"I say that a man has a right to file an amended and supplemental +bill, stating new facts; but you don't understand. Perhaps, sir, I was +right, and perhaps I was wrong in that advice." + +"But, Mr. Roundjacket," said Verty, sighing, "do you think I ought not +to marry because I am an Indian?" + +This question of ethics evidently puzzled the poet. + +"An Indian--hum--an Indian?" he said; "but are you an Indian, my young +friend?" + +"You know _ma mere_ is, and I am her son." + +Roundjacket shook his head. + +"You are a Saxon, not an Aboriginal," he said; "and to tell you the +truth, your origin has been the great puzzle of my life, sir." + +"Has it?" + +"It has, indeed." + +Verty looked thoughtful, and his dreamy gaze was fixed upon vacancy. + +"It has troubled me a good deal lately," he said, "and I have been +thinking about it very often--since I came to live in Winchester, you +know. As long as I was in the woods, it did not come into my thoughts +much; the deer, and turkeys, and bears never asked," added Verty, with +a smile. "The travellers who stopped for a draught of water or a slice +of venison at _ma mere's_, never seemed to think anything about it, +or to like me the worse for not knowing where I came from. It's only +since I came into society here, sir, that I am troubled. It troubles +me very much," added Verty, his head drooping. + +"Zounds!" cried Roundjacket, betrayed by his feelings into an oath, +"don't let it, Verty! You're a fine, honest fellow, whether you're an +Indian or not; and if I had a daughter--which," added Mr. Roundjacket, +"I'm glad to say I have not--you should have her for the asking. Who +cares! you're a gentleman, every inch of you!" + +"Am I?" said Verty; "I'm glad to hear that. I thought I was'nt. And +so, sir, you don't think there's any objection to my marrying?" + +"Hum!--the subject of marrying again!" + +"Yes, sir," Verty replied, smiling; "I thought I'd marry Redbud." + +"Who? that little Redbud!" + +"Yes, sir," said Verty, "I think I'm in love with her." + +Roundjacket stood amazed at such extraordinary simplicity. + +"Sir," he said, "whether you are an Indian by blood or not, you +certainly are by nature. Extraordinary! who ever heard of a civilized +individual using such language!" + +"But you know I am not civilized, sir." + +Roundjacket shook his head. + +"There's the objection," he said; "it is absolutely necessary that a +man who becomes the husband of a young lady should be civilized. But +let us dismiss this subject--Redbud! Excuse me, Mr. Verty, but you are +a very extraordinary young man;--to have you for--well, well. Don't +allude to that again." + +"To what, sir?" + +"To Redbud." + +"Why, sir?" + +"Because I have nothing to do with it. I can only give you my general +ideas on the subject of marriage. If you apply them, that is your +affair. A pretty thing on an oath of discovery," murmured the poetical +lawyer. + +Verty had not heard the last words; he was reflecting. Roundjacket +watched him with a strange, wistful look, which had much kindness and +feeling in it. + +"But why not marry?" said Verty, at last; "it seems to me sir, that +people ought to marry; I think I could find a great many good reasons +for it." + +"Could you; how many?" + +"A hundred, I suppose." + +"And I could find a thousand against it," said Roundjacket. "Mark +me, sir--except under certain circumstances, a man is not the same +individual after marrying--he deteriorates." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I mean, that in most cases it is for the worse--the change of +condition. + +"How, sir?" + +"Observe the married man," replied Roundjacket, philosophically--"see +his brow laden with cares, his important look, his solemn deportment. +None of the lightness and carelessness of the bachelor." + +Verty nodded, as much as to say that there was a great deal of truth +in this much. + +"Then observe the glance," continued Roundjacket, "if I may be +permitted to use a colloquialism which is coming into use--there +is not that brilliant cut of the eye, which you see in us young +fellows--it is all gone, sir!" + +Verty smiled. + +"The married man frequently delegates his soul to his better half," +continued Roundjacket, rising with his subject; "all his independence +is gone. He can't live the life of a jolly bachelor, with pipe and +slippers, jovial friends and nocturnal suppers. The pipe is put out, +sir--the slippers run down--and the joyous laughter of his good +companions becomes only the recollection of dead merriment. He +progresses, sir--does the married man--from bad to worse; he lives in +a state of hen-pecked, snubbed, unnatural apprehension; he shrinks +from his shadow; trembles at every sound; and, in the majority of +cases, ends his miserable existence, sir, by hanging himself to the +bed-post!" + +Having drawn this awful picture of the perils of matrimony, Mr. +Roundjacket paused and smiled. Verty looked puzzled. + +"You seem to think it is very dreadful," said Verty; "are you afraid +of women, sir?" + + +"No, I am not, sir! But I might very rationally be." + +"Anan?" + +"Yes, sir, very reasonably; the fact is, you cannot be a lady's man, +and have any friends, without being talked about." + +Verty nodded, with a simple look, which struck Mr. Roundjacket +forcibly. + +"Only utter a polite speech, and smile, and wrap a lady's shawl around +her shoulders--flirt her fan, or caress her poodle--and, in public +estimation, you are gone," observed the poet; "the community +roll their eyes, shake their heads, and declare that it is very +obvious--that you are so far gone, as not even to pretend to conceal +it. Shocking, sir!" + +And Roundjacket chuckled. + +"It's very wrong," said Verty, shaking his head; "I wonder they do +it." + +"Therefore, keep away from the ladies, my young friend," added +Roundjacket, with an elderly air--"that is the safest way. Get some +snug bachelor retreat like this, and be happy with your pipe. Imitate +me, in dressing-gown and slippers. So shall you be happy!" + +Roundjacket chuckled again, and contemplated the cornice. + +At the same moment a carriage was heard to stop before the door, and +the poet's eyes descended. + +"I wonder who comes to see me," he said, "really now, in a chariot." + +Verty, from his position, could see through the window. + +"Why, it's the Apple Orchard chariot!" he said, "and there is Miss +Lavinia!" + +At this announcement, Mr. Roundjacket's face assumed an expression of +dastardly guilt, and he avoided Verty's eye. + +"Lavinia!" he murmured. + +At the same moment a diminutive footman gave a rousing stroke with the +knocker, and delivered into the hands of the old woman, who opened the +door, a glass dish of delicacies such as are affected by sick persons. + +With this came a message from the lady in the carriage, to the effect, +that her respects were presented to Mr. Roundjacket, whose sickness +she had heard of. Would he like the jelly?--she was passing--would be +every day. Please to send word if he was better. + +While this message was being delivered, Roundjacket resembled an +individual caught in the act of felonious appropriation of his +neighbors' ewes. He did not look at Verty, but, with; a bad assumption +of nonchalance, bade the boy thank his mistress, and say that Mr. +Roundjacket would present his respects, in person, at Apple Orchard, +on the morrow. Would she excuse his not coming out? + +This message was carried to the chariot, which soon afterwards drove +away. + +Verty gazed after it. + +"I say, Mr. Roundjacket," he observed, at length, "how funny it is for +Miss Lavinia to come to see you!" + +"Hum!--hum!--we are--hum--ah--! The fact is, my dear Verty!" cried Mr. +Roundjacket, rising, and limping through a _pas seul_, in spite of his +rheumatism--"the fact is, I have been acting the most miserable and +deceptive way to you for the last hour. Yes, my dear boy! I am ashamed +of myself! Carried away by the pride of opinion, and that fondness +which bachelor's have for boasting, I have been deceiving you! But +it never shall be said that Robert Roundjacket refused the amplest +reparation. My reparation, my good Verty, is taking you into my +confidence. The fact is--yes, the fact really is--as aforesaid, or +rather as _not_ aforesaid, myself and the pleasing Miss Lavinia are to +be married before very long! Don't reply, sir! I know my guilt--but +you might have known I was jesting. You must have suspected, from my +frequent visits to Apple Orchard--hum--hum--well, well, sir; it's out +now, and I've made a clean breast of it, and you're not to speak of +it! I am tired of bachelordom, sir, and am going to change!" + +With these words, Mr. Roundjacket executed a pirouette upon his +rheumatic leg, which caused him to fall back in his chair, making the +most extraordinary faces, which we can compare to nothing but the +contortions of a child who bites a crab-apple by mistake. + +The twinge soon spent its force, however; and then Mr. Roundjacket and +Verty resumed their colloquy--after which, Verty rose and took his +leave, smiling and laughing to himself, at times. + +He had reason. Miss Lavinia, who had denounced wife-hunters, was +about to espouse Mr. Roundjacket, who had declared matrimony the most +miserable of mortal conditions; all which is calculated to raise our +opinion of the consistency of human nature in a most wonderful degree. + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +HOW MR. RUSHTON PROVED THAT ALL MEN WERE SELFISH, HIMSELF INCLUDED. + + +Leaving Mr. Roundjacket contemplating the ceiling, and reflecting upon +the various questions connected with bachelorship and matrimony, Verty +returned to the office, and reported to Mr. Rushton that the poet was +rapidly improving, and would probably be at his post on the morrow. + +This intelligence was received with a growl, which had become, +however, so familiar an expression of feeling to the young man, that +he did not regard it. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Rushton, "what news is there about town?" + +"News, sir? I heard none." + +"Did'nt you pass along the streets?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you met nobody?" + +"Oh, yes; I met Ralph, and Mr. Jinks, and others." + +"Jinks! I'll score that Jinks yet!" said Mr. Rushton; "he is an +impertinent jackanapes, and deserves to be put in the stocks." + +"I don't like him much," said Verty, smiling, "I think he is very +foolish." + +"Hum! I have no doubt of it: he had the audacity to come here once and +ask an _opinion_ of me without offering the least fee." + +"An opinion, sir?" + +"Yes, sir; have you been thus long in the profession, or in contact +with the profession," added Mr. Rushton, correcting himself, "without +learning what an _opinion_ is?" + +"Oh, sir--I think I understand now--it is--" + +"A very gratifying circumstance that you do," said Mr. Rushton, with +the air of a good-natured grizzly bear. "Well, sir, that fellow, I +say, had the audacity to consult me upon a legal point--whether the +tailor O'Brallaghan, being bound over to keep the peace, could attack +him without forfeiting his recognizances--that villain Jinks, I say, +had the outrageous audacity to ask my opinion on this point, and then +when I gave it, to rise and say that it was a fine morning, and so +strut out, without another word. A villain, sir! the man who consults +a lawyer without the preparatory retainer, is a wretch too deep-dyed +to reform!" + +Having thus disposed of Jinks, Mr. Rushton snorted. + +"I don't like him," Verty said, "he does not seem to be sincere, and I +think he is not a gentleman. But, I forget, sir; you asked me if there +was any news. I _did_ hear some people talking at the corners of the +street as I passed. + +"About what?" + +"The turn out of the Dutch and Irish people the day after tomorrow, +sir." + +"Hum!" growled Mr. Rushton, "we'll see about that! The authorities of +Winchester are performing their duty after a pretty fashion, truly--to +permit these villainous plots to be hatched tinder their very noses. +What did you hear, sir?" + +"They were whispering almost, sir, and if I had'nt been a hunter I +could'nt have heard. They were saying that there would be knives as +well as shillalies," said Verty. + +"Hum! indeed! This must be looked to! Will we! The wretches. We are in +a fine way when the public peace is to be sacrificed to the whim of +some outlandish wretches." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Sir?" asked Mr. Rushton. + +"I do not know exactly what _outlandish_ means," Verty replied, with a +smile. + +A grim smile came to the lips of the lawyer also. + +"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some +people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish." + +"Me!" said Verty. + +"Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?" + +"My clothes, sir--from the tailor's?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Verty shook his head. + +"I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an +Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me." + +Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence. + +"You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You +came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am +permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin, +which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have +labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched +life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces." + +"Don't you like law, sir?" + +"No--I hate it." + +"Why, sir?" + +"'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying +questions! I hate it because it lowers still more my opinion of this +miserable humanity. I see everywhere rascality, and fraud, and lies; +and because there is danger of becoming the color of the stuff I work +in, 'like the dyer's hand.' I hate it," growled Mr. Rushton. + +"But you must see many noble things, sir, too,--a great deal of +goodness, you know." + +"Well, sir, so I do. I don't deny it. There are _some_ men who are not +entirely corrupt,--some who do not cheat systematically, and lie by +the compass and the rule. But these are the exceptions. This life and +humanity are foul sin from the beginning. Trust no one, young man--not +even me; I may turn out a rogue. I am no better than the rest of the +wretches!" + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"There you are with your exclamations!" + +"Oh, I'm sure, sir--" + +"Be sure of nothing; let us end this jabber. How is your mother?" said +Mr. Rushton, abruptly. + +"She's very well, sir." + +"A good woman." + +"Oh, indeed she is, sir--I love her dearly." + +"Hum! there's no harm in that, though much selfishness, I do not +doubt--all humanity is narrow and selfish. There are some things I +procured for her." + +And Mr. Rushton pointed to a large bundle lying on the chair. + +"For _ma mere_!" said Verty. + +"Yes; I suppose that, in your outlandish lingo, means _mother_. Yes, +for her; the winter is coming on, and she will need something warm to +wrap her--poor creature--from the cold." + +"Oh, how kind you are, Mr. Rushton!" + +"Nonsense; I suppose I am at liberty to spend my own money." + +Verty looked at the lawyer with a grateful smile, and said: + +"I don't think that what you said about everybody's being selfish and +bad is true, sir. You are very good and kind." + +"Flummery!" observed the cynic, "I had a selfish motive: I wished to +appear generous--I wished to be praised--I wished to attach you to my +service, in order to employ you, when the time came, in some rascally +scheme." + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"Yes, sir; you know not why I present that winter wardrobe to your +mother," said the lawyer, triumphantly; "you don't even know that it +is my present!" + +"How, sir?" + +"May I not stop it from your salary, I should like to know, sir?" + +And Mr. Rushton scowled at Verty. + +"Oh!" said the young man. + +"I may do anything--I may have laid a plot to have you arrested for +receiving stolen goods," said the shaggy cynic, revelling in the +creations of his invention; "I may have wrapped up an infernal +machine, sir, in that bundle, which, when you open it, will explode +like a cannon, and carry ruin and destruction to everything around!" + +This terrific picture caused Verty to open his eyes, and look with +astonishment at his interlocutor. + +"I may have bought them in to spite that young villain at the store. I +heard him," said Mr. Rushton, vindictively--"yes, distinctly heard +him whisper, 'There's old Rushton again, come to growl, and not buy +anything.' The villain! but I disappointed him; and when he said, +"Shall they be sent to your office, sir?" in his odious obsequious +voice, I replied, 'No, sir! I am not a dandy or fine gentleman, nor +a woman;--you, sir, may be accustomed to have your bundles _sent_--I +carry mine myself.' And so, sir, I took the bundle on my shoulder and +brought it away, to the astonishment of that young villain, who, I +predict, will eventually come to the gallows!" + +And the lawyer, having grown tired of talking, abruptly went into his +sanctum, and slammed the door. + +Verty gazed after him for some moments with a puzzled expression--then +smiled--then shook his head; then glanced at the bundle. It was heavy +enough for two porters, and Verty opened his eyes at the thought of +Mr. Rushton's having appeared in public, in the town of Winchester, +with such a mass upon his back. + +"He's very good, though," said Verty; "I don't know why he's so kind +to me. How _ma mere_ will like them--I know they are what she wants." + +And Verty betook himself to his work, only stopping to partake of his +dinner of cold venison and biscuits. By the afternoon, he had done a +very good task; and then mounting Cloud, with the bundle before him, +he took his way homeward, _via_ Apple Orchard. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +THE PORTRAIT SMILES. + + +Our fine Virginia autumn not only dowers the world with beautiful +forests, and fresh breezes, and a thousand lovely aspects of the +beautiful world--fine golden sunsets, musical dawns, and gorgeous +noontides full of languid glory;--it also has its direct influence on +the mind. + +Would you dream? Go to the autumn woods; the life there is one golden +round of fancies, such as come alone beneath waning forests, where +the glories of the flower-crowned summer have yielded to a spell more +powerful, objects more enthralling--because those objects have the +charm of a maiden slowly passing, with a loveliness a thousand times +increased, and sublimated, to the holy skies. + +Would you have active life? That is there too--the deer, and sound +of bugles rattling through the trees, and rousing echoes which go +flashing through the hills, and filling the whole universe with +jubilant laughter. Every mood has something offered for its +entertainment in the grand autumns of our Blue-Ridge dominated land: +chiefly the thoughtful, however, the serene and happy. + +You dream there, under the boughs all gold, and blue, and crimson. +Little things which obscured the eternal landscape, pass away, and the +great stars, above the world, come out and flood the mind with a far +other light than that which flowed from earthly tapers and rushlights. +The heart is purer for such hours of thought; and as the splendid +autumn marches on with pensive smiles, you see a glory in his waning +cheek which neither the tender Spring, nor the rich, glittering Summer +ever approached--an expression of hope and resignation which is +greater than strength and victory. Ah, me! if we could always look, +like autumn, on the coming storms and freezing snows, and see the +light and warmth beyond the veil! + +Verty went on beneath the autumn skies, and through the woods, the +rustle of whose leaves was music to his forest-trained ear; and so +arrived at Apple Orchard as the sun was setting brightly behind the +pines, which he kindled gloriously. + +Redbud was seated at the window; and the kind eyes and lips +brightened, as the form of the young man became visible. + +Verty dismounted and entered. + +"I am very glad to see you!" said Redbud, smiling, and holding out her +small hand; "what a sweet evening for your ride home." + +Redbud was clad with her usual grace and simplicity. Her beautiful +golden hair was brushed back from the pure, white forehead; her throat +was enveloped in a circlet of diaphanous lace, and beneath this, as +she breathed, the red beads of the coral necklace were visible, rising +and falling with the pulsations of her heart. Redbud could not have +very readily explained the reason for her fancy in wearing the +necklace constantly. It was one of those caprices which every one +experiences at times;--and so, although the girl had quite a magazine +of such ornaments, she persisted in wearing the old necklace bought +from the pedlar. Perhaps the word Providence may explain the matter. + +To the girl's observation, that he had a fine evening for his ride +homeward, Verty replied--Yes, that he had; that he could not go by, +however, without coming to see her. + +And as he uttered these words, the simple and tender glances of the +two young persons encountered each other; and they both smiled. + +"You know you are not very well," added Verty; "and I could'nt sleep +well if I did not know how you were, Redbud." + +The girl thanked him with another smile, and said: + +"I believe I am nearly well now; the cold I caught the other day has +entirely left me. I almost think I might take a stroll, if the sun was +not so low." + +"It is half an hour high--that is, it will not get cool until then," +Verty said. + +"Do you think I would catch cold?" asked the girl, smiling. + +"I don't know," Verty said. + +"Well, I do not think I will, and you shall wrap me in your coat, if I +do," she said, laughing. + +In ten minutes, Redbud and Verty were strolling through the grove, and +admiring the sunset. + +"How pretty it is," she said, gazing with pensive pleasure on the +clouds; "and the old grove here is so still." + +"Yes," Verty said, "I like the old grove very much. Do you see that +locust? It was just at the foot of it, that we found the hare's form, +when Dick mowed the grass. You recollect?" + +"Oh, yes," Redbud replied; "and I remember what dear little creatures +they were--not bigger than an apple, and with such frightened eyes. +We put them back, you know, Verty--that is, I made you," she added, +laughing. + +Verty laughed too. + +"They were funny little creatures," he said; "and they would have +died--you know we never could have got the right things for them to +eat--yes! there, in the long grass! How Molly Cotton jumped away." + +They walked on. + +"Here, by the filbert bush, we used to bury the apples to get mellow," +Verty said; "nice, yellow, soft things they were, when we dug them +up, with a smell of the earth about 'em! They were not like the June +apples we used to get in the garden, where they dropped among the +corn--their striped, red sides all covered with dust!" + +"I liked the June apples the best," Redbud said, "but I think October +is finer than June." + +"Oh, yes. Redbud, I am going to get some filberts--will you have +some?" + +"If you please." + +So Verty went to the bushes, and brought his hat full of them, and +cracked them on a stone--the sun lighting up his long, tangled curls, +and making brighter his bright smile. + +Redbud stooped down, and gathered the kernels as they jumped from the +shell, laughing and happy. + +They had returned to their childhood again--bright and tender +childhood, which dowers our after life with so many tender, mournful, +happy memorials;--whose breezes fan our weary brows so often as we go +on over the thorny path, once a path of flowers. They were once +more children, and they wandered thus through the beautiful forest, +collecting their memories, laughing here, sighing there--and giving an +association or a word to every feature of the little landscape. + +"How many things I remember," Verty said, thoughtfully, and smiling; +"there, where Milo, the good dog, was buried, and a shot fired over +him--there, where we treed the squirrel--and over yonder, by the run, +which I used to think flowed by from fairy land--I remember so many +things!" + +"Yes--I do too," replied the girl, thoughtfully, bending her head. + +"How singular it is that an Indian boy like me should have been +brought up here," Verty said, buried in thought; "I think my life is +stranger than what they call a romance." + +Redbud made no reply. + +"_Ma mere_ would never tell me anything about myself," the young man +went on, wistfully, "and I can't know anything except from her. I must +be a Dacotah or a Delaware." + +Redbud remained thoughtful for some moments, then raising her head, +said: + +"I do not believe you are an Indian, Verty. There is some mystery +about you which I think the old Indian woman should tell. She +certainly is not your mother," said Redbud, with a little smiling air +of dogmatism. + +"I don't know," Verty replied, "but I wish I did know. I used to be +proud of being an Indian, but since I have grown up, and read how +wicked they were, I wish I was not. + +"You are not." + +"Well, I think so, too," he replied; "I am not a bit like _ma mere_, +who has long, straight black hair, and a face the color of that +maple--dear _ma mere_!--while I have light hair, always getting rolled +up. My face is different, too--I mean the color--I am sun-burned, but +I remember when my face was very white." + +And Verty smiled. + +"I would ask her all about it," Redbud said. + +"I think I will," was the reply; "but she don't seem to like it, +Redbud--it seems to worry her." + +"But it is important to you, Verty." + +"Yes, indeed it is." + +"Ask her this evening." + +"Do you advise me?" + +"Yes. I think you ought to; indeed I do." + +"Well, I will," Verty said; "and I know when _ma mere_ understands +that I am not happy as long as she does not tell me everything, she +will speak to me." + +"I think so, too," said Redbud; "and now, Verty, there is one thing +more--trust in God, you know, is everything. He will do all for the +best." + +"Oh, yes," the young man said, as they turned toward Apple Orchard +house again, "I am getting to do that--and I pray now, Redbud," he +added, looking toward the sky, "I pray to the Great Spirit, as we call +him--" + +Redbud looked greatly delighted, and said: + +"That is better than all; I do not see how any one can live without +praying." + +"I used to," Verty replied. + +"It was so wrong." + +"Yes, yes." + +"And Verty gazed at the sunset with his dreamy, yet kindling eyes. + +"If there is a Great Spirit, we ought to talk to him," he said, "and +tell him what we want, and ask him to make us good; I think so at +least--" + +"Indeed we should." + +"Then," continued Verty, "if that is true, we ought to think whether +there is or is not such a spirit. There may be people in towns +who don't believe there is--but I am obliged to. Look at the sun, +Redbud--the beautiful sun going away like a great torch dying +out;--and look at the clouds, as red as if a thousand deer had come to +their death, and poured their blood out in a river! Look at the woods +here, every color of the bow in the cloud, and the streams, and rocks, +and all! There must be a Great Spirit who loves men, or he never would +have made the world so beautiful." + +Verty paused, and they went on slowly. + +"We love him because he first loved us," said Redbud, thoughtfully. + +"Yes, and what a love it must have been. Oh me!" said the young man, +"I sometimes think of it until my heart is melted to water, and my +eyes begin to feel heavy. What love it was!--and if we do not love in +return, what punishment is great enough for such a crime!" + +And Verty's face was raised with a dreamy, reverent look toward the +sky. Youth, manhood, age--if they but thought of it!--but youth is a +dream--manhood the waking--age the return to slumber. Busy, arranging +the drapery of their couches, whether of royal purple or of beggar's +rags, they cannot find the time to think of other things--even to +listen to the grim breakers, with their awful voices roaring on the +lee! + +So, under the autumn skies, the young man and the maiden drew near +home. Apple Orchard smiled on them as they came, and the bluff Squire, +seated upon the portico, and reading that "Virginia Gazette" maligned +by Roundjacket, gave them welcome with a hearty, laughing greeting. + +The Squire declared that Redbud's cheeks were beginning to be +tolerably red again; that she had been pretending sickness only--and +then, with a vituperative epithet addressed to Caesar, the old +gentleman re-commenced reading. + +Redbud and Verty entered; and then the young man held out his hand. + +"Are you going?" said the girl. + +"Yes," he said, smiling, "unless you will sing me something. Oh, yes! +let me go away with music in my ears. Sing '_Dulce Domum_' for me, +Redbud." + +The young girl assented, with a smile; and sitting down at the +harpsichord, sang the fine old ditty in her soft, tender voice, which +was the very echo of joy and kindness. The gentle carol floated on +the evening air, and seemed to make the autumn twilight brighter, +everything more lovely--and Verty listened with a look more dreamy +than before. + +Then, as she sung, his eye was turned to the picture on the wall, +which looked down with its loving eyes upon them. + +Redbud ceased, and turned and saw the object of his regard. + +"Mamma," she said, in a low, thoughtful voice,--"I love to think of +her." + +And rising, she stood beside Verty, who was still looking at the +portrait. + +"She must have been very good," he murmured; "I think her face is full +of kindness." + +Redbud gazed softly at the portrait, and, as she mused, the dews of +love and memory suffused her tender eyes, and she turned away. + +"I love the face," said Verty, softly; "and I think she must have been +a kind, good mother, Redbud. I thought just now that she was listening +to you as you sang." + +And Verty gazed at the young girl, with a tenderness which filled her +eyes with delight. + +"She will bless you out of Heaven," he continued, timidly; "for you +are so beautiful and good--so very beautiful!" + +And a slight tremor passed over the young man's frame as he spoke. + +Redbud did not reply; a deep blush suffused her face, and she murmured +something. Then the young head drooped, and the face turned away. + +The last ray of sunlight gleamed upon her hair and pure white +forehead, and then fled away--the day was ended. + +Verty saw it, and held out his hand. + +"We have had a happy evening, at least I have," he said, in a low +voice; "the autumn is so beautiful, and you are so kind and good." + +She did not speak; but a faint wistful smile came to her lips as she +placed her hand softly in his own. + +"Look! the picture is smiling on you now!" said Verty; "you are just +alike--both so beautiful!" + +"Oh!" murmured Redbud, blushing; "like mamma?" + +"Yes," said Verty, "and I saw the lips smile when I spoke." + +They stood thus hand in hand--the tender mother-eyes upon them: then +he turned and went away, looking back tenderly to the last. + +Had the dim canvas smiled upon them, as they stood there hand in +hand--a blessing on them from the far other world? + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +THE LODGE IN THE HILLS. + + +Sitting by the crackling twigs which drove away the cool airs of the +autumn night with their inspiring warmth, the young man, whose early +fortunes we have thus far endeavored to narrate, leaned his head upon +his hand, and mused and dreamed. + +Overhead the shadows played upon the rafters; around him, the +firelight lit up the wild and uncouth interior, with its sleeping +hounds, and guns, and fishing-rods, and chests; on the opposite side +of the fire-place, the old Indian woman was indulging, like Verty, in +a reverie. + +From time to time, Longears or Wolf would stir in their sleep, and +growl, engaged in dreaming of some forest adventure which concerned +itself with deer or other game; or the far cry of the whip-poor-will +would echo through the forest; or the laughter of the owl suddenly +come floating on, borne on the chill autumn wind. + +This, with the crackle of the twigs, was all which disturbed the +silence of the solitary lodge. + +The silence lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time Verty +changed his position, and sighed. Then looking at the old woman with +great affection, the young man said: + +"I was thinking who I was; and I wanted to ask you, _ma mere_--tell +me." + +The old woman looked startled at this address, but concealing her +emotion with the marvellous skill of her people, replied in her +guttural accent-- + +"My son wants to know something?" + +"Yes, _ma mere_, that is it. I want to know if I really am your son." + +The old woman turned her eyes from Verty. + +"The fawn knows the deer, and the bear's cub knows his fellows," +continued Verty, gazing into the fire; "but they laugh at me. I don't +know my tribe." + +"Our tribe is the Delaware," said the old Indian woman evasively--" +they came from the great woods like a river." + +"Like a river? Yes, they know their source. But where did I spring +from, _ma mere_?" + +"Where was my son born?" + +"Yes, tell me everything," said Verty; "tell me if I am your son. +Do not tell me that you love me as a son, or that I love you as my +mother. I know that--but am I a Delaware?" + +"Why does my son ask?" + +"Because a bird of the air whispered to me--'You are not a Delaware, +nor a Tuscarora, nor a Dacotah; you are a pale face.' Did the bird +lie!" + +The old woman did not answer. + +"_Ma mere_," said Verty, tenderly taking the old woman's hand and +sitting at her feet, "the Great Spirit has made me honest and open--I +cannot conceal anything. I cannot pry and search. I might find out +this from some other person--who knows? But I will not try. Come! +speak with a straight tongue. Am I the son of a brave; am I a +Delaware; or am I what my face makes me out--a Long-knife?" + +"Ough! ough! ough!" groaned the old woman; "he wants to go, away from +the nest where he was warmed, and nursed, and brought up. The Great +Spirit has put evil into his heart--it is cold." + +"No, no," said Verty, earnestly--"my heart is red, not white; every +drop of my life-blood is yours, _ma mere_; you have loved me, +cherished me: when my muscles were soft and hot with fever, you laid +my head upon your bosom, and rocked me to sleep as softly as the +topmost bough of the oak rocks the oriole; you loved me always. My +heart shall run out of my breast and soak the ground, before it turns +white; yet, I love you, and you love me. But, _ma mere_, I have grown +well nigh to manhood; the bird's song is changed, and the dove has +flown to me--the dove yonder at Apple Orchard--" + +"Ough!" groaned the old woman, rocking to and fro; "she is black! She +has made you bad!" + +"No, no! she is white--she is good. She told me about the Great +Spirit, and makes me pure." + +"Ough! ough!" + +"She is as pure as the bow in the cloud," continued Verty; "and I +did not mean that the dove was the bird who whispered, that I was no +Delaware. No--my own heart says, 'know--find out.'" + +"And why should the heart say 'know?'" said the old woman, still +rocking about, and looking at Verty with anxious affection. "Why +should my son seek to find?" + +"Because the winds are changed and sing new songs; the leaves whisper, +as I pass, with a new voice; and even the clouds are not what they +were to me when I ran after the shadows floating along the hills, and +across the hollows. I have changed, _ma mere_, and the streams talk no +more with the same tongue. I hear the flags and water-lilies muttering +as I pass, and the world opens on me with a new, strange light. They +talked to me once; now they laugh at me as I pass. Hear the trees, +yonder! Don't you hear them? They are saying, 'The Delaware paleface! +look at him! look at him!'" + +And crouching, with dreamy eyes, Verty for a moment listened to the +strange sob of the pines, swaying in the chill winds of the autumn +night. + +"I am not what I was!" he continued; the world is open now, and I must +be a part of it. The bear and deer speak to me with tongues I do not +understand. _Ma mere! ma mere_! I must know whether I am a Delaware or +pale face!--whether one or the other, I am still yours--yours always! +Speak! speak with a straight tongue to your child!" + +"Ough! ough! ough!" groaned the old woman, looking at him wistfully, +and plainly struggling with herself--hesitating between two courses. + +"Speak!" said Verty, with a glow in his eye, which made him resemble +a young leopard of the wild--"speak, _ma mere_!--I am no longer a +child! I go into a new land now, and how shall it be? As a red face, +or a long knife--which am I? Speak, _ma mere_--say if I am a Delaware, +whose place is the woods, or a white, whose life must take him from +the deer forever!" + +The struggle was ended; Verty could not have uttered words more fatal +to his discovering anything. He raised an insuperable barrier to +any revelations--if, indeed, there existed any mystery--by his +alternative. Was he a Delaware, and thus doomed to live in the forest +with his old Indian mother--or was he a white, in which case, he would +leave her? Pride, cunning, above all, deep and pure affection, sealed +the old woman's lips, if she had thought of opening them. She looked +for sometime at Verty, then, taking his head between her hands, she +said, with eyes full of tears: + +"You are my own dear son--my young, beautiful hawk of the woods--who +said you were not a true Delaware!" + +And the old woman bent down, and with a look of profound affection, +pressed her lips to Verty's forehead. + +The young man's face assumed an expression of mingled gloom and doubt, +and he sighed. Then he was an Indian--a Delaware--the son of the +Indian woman--he was not a paleface. All the talk about it was thrown +away; he was born in the woods--would live and die in the woods! + +For a moment the image of Redbud rose before him, and he sighed. He +knew not why, but he wished that he was not an Indian--he wished that +his blood had been that of the whites. + +His sad face drooped; then his eyes ware raised, and he saw the old +woman weeping. + +The sight removed from Verty's mind all personal considerations, and +he leaned his head upon her knee, and pressed her hand to his lips. + +"Did the child make his mother weep," he said; "did his idle words +bring rain to her eyes, and make her heart heavy? But he is her child +still, and all the world is nothing to him." + +Verty rose, and taking the old, withered hand, placed it respectfully +on his breast. + +"Never again, _ma mere_" he said, "will the wind talk to me, or the +birds whisper. I will not listen. Have I made your eyes dark? Let it +pass away--I am your son--I love you--more than all the whole wide +world." + +And Verty sat down, and gazed tenderly at the old woman, whose face +had assumed an expression of extraordinary delight. + +"Listen," said Verty, taking down his old violin, with a smile, +"I will play one of the old tunes, which blow like a wind from my +childhood--happy childhood." + +And the young man gazed for a moment, silent and motionless, into the +fire. Then he raised his old, battered instrument, and began to play +one of the wild madrigals of the border. + +The music aroused Longears, who sat up, so to speak, upon his +forepaws, and with his head bent upon one side, gazed with dignified +and solemn interest at his master. + +The young man smiled, and continued playing; and as the rude border +music floated from the instrument, the Verty of old days came back, +and he was once again the forest hunter. + +The old woman gazed at him with thoughtful affection, and returned his +smile. He went on playing, and the long hours of the autumn night went +by like birds into the cloudland of the past. + +When the forest boy ceased playing, it was nearly midnight, and the +brands were flickering and dying. + +Waked by the silence, Longears, who had gone to sleep again, rose up, +and came and licked his master's hand, and whined. Verty caressed his +head, and laying down his violin, looked at the old Indian woman with +affectionate smiles, and murmured: + +"We are happy still, _ma mere_!" + + + + +CHAPTER LXI. + +MISTRESS O'CALLIGAN'S WOOERS. + + +It will be remembered that Mr. Jinks had summed up the probable +results of his deep laid schemes that morning when he returned from +Mistress O'Calligan's, in the strong and emphatic word-picture, "there +will be gory blood, sir!" + +Now, while these words, strictly construed, are, perhaps, ambiguous, +from a certain redundancy in the arrangement, still, there is little +difficulty in determining what Mr. Jinks meant. Death and destruction +dwelt in his imagination, and held there a riotous carnival; and to +such a pitch of delight was our friend elevated by the triumphant +anticipation of revenge upon O'Brallaghan, that he stalked about +during the remaining portion of the day, talking to himself in the +heroic vein, and presenting the appearance of an imperial grasshopper, +arrived at the summit of felicity. + +But Mr. Jinks was not idle; no one knew better than himself that +vigilance was the price paid for success; and to vigilance our +conspirator added cunning--in which noble trait he was by no means +deficient. + +We have seen how, on returning from the heroic attack upon the +peace-bound O'Brallaghan, Mr. Jinks threw out a series of observations +which attracted the attention of the landlord at the tavern; and +we have further seen these two gentlemen retire together into the +hostelry, with significant looks and mutterings. Of the exact nature +of that interview we cannot speak, having nowhere discovered any +memoranda to guide us, in the authentic documents from which this +history is compiled. + +But results define causes; and from after events it is not improbable +that Mr. Jinks made an eloquent and stirring oration, addressed after +the manner of all great orators to the prejudices of the auditor, +and indicative of Mr. Jinks' intention to overwhelm, with defeat and +destruction, the anti-Germanic league and pageant, on St. Michael's +day. + +That day was very near, as we have seen; but twenty-four hours +remained for the conspirators to act in; and Mr. Jinks determined not +to lose the opportunity to perfect and render satisfactory his bloody +revenge. + +Many things conspired to put him in high spirits, and arouse that +heroic confidence felt by all great men in undertaking arduous +affairs. The landlord had been so much pleased with Mr. Jinks' +patriotic ardor in the German cause, that he generously hinted at an +entire obliteration of any little score chalked up against the name +of Jinks for board and lodging at the hostelry; this was one of the +circumstances which inspirited Mr. Jinks. Another was the possession +of a steed--a donkey, it is true, but a donkey out of a thousand, _nee +pluribus impar_, and not unworthy of a knight in a great and exciting +contest. + +Thus it happened that when, upon the following morning, Mr. Jinks +arose, assumed his garments, and descended, his face was radiant with +anticipated triumph, his sword clattered against his slender legs with +martial significance, and his brows were corrugated into a frown, +which indicated ruin to all those opposed to him. + +Mounted upon Fodder, who was sleek and in high spirits, owing to a +good night's rest and a plentiful supply of his favorite provender, +Mr. Jinks remained for a moment irresolute before the door of the +hostelry, revolving in his mind various and conflicting thoughts of +love and war. + +Should he go on his handsome animal, and enact the little drama, which +he had arranged in his mind, with Miss Sallianna at the Bower of +Nature? Should he, on this morning, advance to victory and revenge in +that direction? Or should he go and challenge his enemy, Verty, and +make his name glorious forever? + +These conflicting ideas chased themselves through Mr. Jinks' mind, and +rendered him irresolute. + +He was interrupted in the midst of them by a voice, laughing and +sonorous, which cried from the direction of the gateway: + +"Hey, there! What now, Jinks'? What thoughts occupy your mind, my dear +fellow?" + +And Ralph came out from the yard of the tavern, mounted upon his +handsome animal, as fresh and bright-looking as himself. + +"I was reflecting, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "I have much to occupy me +to-day." + +"Ah? Well, set about it--set about it! Don't you know that the great +element of success in life, from killing a mosquito to winning an +empress, is to strike at once, and at the right moment? Go on, Jinks, +my boy, and luck to you!" + +"Thanks, sir," replied Mr. Jinks--"I hope I shall have luck." + +"Of course, because you have genius! What is luck?" cried Ralph, +bending down to smooth the glossy neck of his animal, and laughing +gaily,--"why, nothing but a word! Luck, sir, is nothing--genius +everything. Luck throws her old shoe after, as says the proverb; but +genius catches it, and conquers. Come, you are good at everything, let +us have a race!" + +"No, I thank you," said Mr. Jinks, drawing back; "I have business, +sir--important business, sir!" + +"Have you?" said Ralph, restraining his desire to lay the lash of his +whip over Fodder's back, and so inaugurate a new Iliad of woes for Mr. +Jinks. "Then go on in your course, my dear fellow. I am going to see a +young lady, who really is beginning to annoy me." + +And the mercurial young fellow passed from laughter to smiles, and +even to something suspiciously resembling a sigh. + +"Farewell, my dear Jinks," he added, becoming gay again; "fortune +favors the brave, recollect. I wish I could believe it," he added, +laughing. + +And touching his horse, Ralph set forward toward the Bower of Nature, +and consequently toward Miss Fanny. + +"There goes a young man who is in love," said Mr. Jinks, with +philosophic dignity; "regularly caught by a pair of black eyes. Boy!" +added Mr. Jinks, after the manner of Coriolanus, "he don't know 'em as +I do. He's looking out for happiness--I for revenge!" + +And Mr. Jinks scowled at a stable-boy until the terrified urchin hung +his head in awe, respect, and admiration. The great militaire was not +superior to humanity, and even this triumph elated him. He set forth, +therefore, on Fodder, feeling like a conqueror. + +If this veracious history were a narrative of the life and adventures +of Mr. Jinks alone, we might follow the great conspirator in his +various movements on this eventful day. We might show how he +perambulated the town of Winchester on his noble steed, like a second +Don Quixote, mounted for the nonce upon the courser of Sancho Panza, +while Rosinante recovered from his bruises. Though the illustration +might fail if carried further, inasmuch as Mr. Jinks encountered no +windmills, and indeed met with no adventures worth relating, still +we might speak of his prying inquisition into every movement of the +hostile Irish--detail his smiling visits, in the character of spy, +to numerous domicils, and relate at length the manner in which he +procured the information which the noble knight desired. All this we +might do; but is it necessary? Not always does the great historic muse +fill up the flaws of story, leaving rather much to the imagination. +And in the present instance, we might justly be accused of undue +partiality. We are not sure that some of our kind readers might not go +further still, and declare in general terms, that none of Mr. Jinks' +adventures were worth telling--Mr. Jinks himself being a personage +wholly unworthy of attention. + +To critics of this last description, we would say in deprecation of +their strictures--Friends, the world is made up of a number of odd +personages, as the animal kingdom is of singular, and not wholly +pleasant creatures. Just as the scarabaeus and the ugly insect are as +much a part of animated nature as the golden-winged butterfly, and +humming-bird, and noble eagle, so are the classes, represented +partly by our friend, as human as the greatest and the best. As the +naturalist, with laborious care, defines the characteristics of the +ugly insect, buzzing, and stinging, and preying on the weaker, so must +the writer give a portion of his attention to the microscopic bully, +braggart, and boasting coward of the human species. In the one case, +it is _science_--in the other, _art_. + +But still we shall not give too much space to Mr. Jinks, and shall +proceed to detail very briefly the result of his explorations. + +The great conspirator had, by the hour of eventide, procured all the +information he wished. That information led Mr. Jinks to believe that, +on the following day, the opposing races would turn out in numbers, +far exceeding those on any previous occasion. They would have a grand +pageant:--St. Patrick would meet St. Michael in deadly conflict, and +the result would undoubtedly overwhelm one of the combatants with +defeat, elevating the other to the summit of joy and victory. + +It was Mr. Jinks' object to ensure the success of the worthy St. +Michael, and prostrate the great St. Patrick in the dust. But this was +not all. Mr. Jinks further desired to procure an adequate revenge upon +his friend O'Brallaghan. To overwhelm with defeat and dismay the party +to which his enemy belonged, was not enough--any common man could +invent so plain a course as that. It was Mr. Jinks' boast, privately, +and to himself be it understood, that he would arrange the details +of an original and refined revenge--a revenge which should, in equal +degree, break down the strength and spirit of his enemy, and elevate +the inventor to the niche of a great creative genius. + +By the hour of nine that night all was arranged; and, after laboring +for an hour or more at some mysterious employment, in the secresy of +his apartment, Mr. Jinks descended, and ordered Fodder to be saddled. + +Under his arm he carried a bundle of some size; and this bundle was +placed carefully before him on the animal. + +This done, Mr. Jinks went forth cautiously into the night. + +Let us follow him. + +He proceeds carefully toward the western portion of the town; then +suddenly turns a corner, and goes northward; then changes his course, +and takes his way eastward. This is to throw enemies off the track. + +Half an hour's ride brings him in the neighborhood of Mistress +O'Calligan's. + +What does he hear? A voice singing;--the voice of no less a personage +than Mr. O'Brallaghan. + +The conspirator retraces his steps for some distance--dismounts--ties +Fodder to a tree-trunk; and then, with his bundle under his arm, +creeps along in the shadow toward the cabin. + +At Mrs. O'Calligan's door, sitting upon the railing, he perceives the +portly figure of Mr. O'Brallaghan, who is singing a song of his +own composition; not the ditty which has come down to modern times +connected with this gentleman's name--but another and more original +madrigal. The popular ditty, we have every reason to believe, was +afterwards written by Mr. Jinks, in derision and contempt of Mr. +O'Brallaghan. + +Mr. Jinks creeps up; diabolical and gloomy thoughts agitate his soul; +and when a night-cap appears at an opening in the shutter, and a +fluttering voice exclaims, "Oh, now--really! Mr. O'Brallaghan," the +hidden spectator trembles with jealousy and rage. + +A colloquy then ensues between the manly singer and the maiden, +which we need not repeat. It is enough to say, that Mr. O'Brallaghan +expresses disapprobation at the coldness of the lady. + +The lady replies, that she respects and esteems Mr. O'Brallaghan, but +never, never can be his, owing to the fact that she is another's. + +Mr. Jinks starts with joy, and shakes his fist--from the protecting +shadow--triumphantly at the poor defeated wooer. + +The wooer, in turn, grows cold and defiant; he upbraids the lady; he +charges her with entertaining a passion for the rascal and coward +Jinks. + +This causes the lady to repel the insulting accusation with hauteur. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan thinks, and says, thereupon, that she is a cruel and +unnatural woman, and unworthy of affection or respect. + +Mistress O'Calligan wishes, in reply, to know if Mr. O'Brallaghan +means to call her a woman. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan replies that he does, and that if Mr. Jinks were +present, he would exterminate that gentleman, as some small exhibition +of the state of his feelings at being thus insulted by the worst and +most hard-hearted of her sex. + +After which, Mr. O'Brallaghan clenches his hands with threatening +vehemence, and brushing by the concealed Jinks, who makes himself as +small as possible, disappears, muttering vengeance. + +Mr. Jinks is happy, radiant, triumphant, and as he watches the +retreating wooer, his frame shakes with sombre merriment. Then he +turns toward the window, and laughs with cautious dignity. + +The lady, who is just closing the window, starts and utters an +exclamation of affright. This, however, is disregarded by Mr. Jinks, +who draws near, and stands beneath the window. + +Mistress O'Calligan considers it necessary to state that she is in +such a taking, and to ask who could have thought it. Mr. Jinks does +not directly reply to this question, but, reaching up, hands in the +bundle, and commences a whispered conversation. The lady is doubtful, +fearful--Mr. Jinks grows more eloquent. Finally, the lady melts, and +when Mr. Jinks clasps, rapturously, the red hand hanging out, he has +triumphed. + +In fifteen minutes he is on his way back to the tavern, chuckling, +shaking, and triumphant. + +All is prepared. + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +VERTY MUSES. + + +Let us now leave the good old town of Winchester, and go into the +hills, where the brilliant autumn morning reigns, splendid and +vigorous. + +In the hills! Happy is the man who knows what those words mean; for +only the mountain-born can understand them. Happy, then, let us say, +are the mountain-born! We will not underrate the glories of the +lowland and the Atlantic shore, or close our eyes to the wealth of the +sea. The man is blind who does not catch the subtle charm of the wild +waves glittering in the sun, or brooded over by the sullen storm; but +"nigh gravel blind" is that other, whose eyes are not open to the +grand beauty of the mountains. Let us not rhapsodize, or with this +little bit of yellow ore, venture to speak of the great piles of +grandeur from whose heart it was dug up. There is that about the +mountains, with their roaring diapason of the noble pines, their +rugged summits and far dying tints, purple, and gold, and azure, which +no painter could express, had the genius of Titian and Watteau, and +the atmosphere of Poussin, to speak over its creations. No! let them +speak for themselves as all great things must--happy is he, who, by +right of birth, can understand their noble voices! + +But there is the other and lesser mountain life--the life of the +hills. Autumn loves these especially, and happy, too, are they who +know the charm of the breezy hills! The hills where autumn pours her +ruddy sunshine upon lordly pines--rather call them palms!--shooting +their slender swaying trunks into the golden sea of morning, and, far +up above, waving their emerald plumes in the laughing wind;--where +the sward is fresh and dewy in the shivering delicious hunter's +morning!--where the arrow-wood and dogwood cluster crimson berries, +and the maple, alder tree and tulip, burn away--setting the dewy copse +on fire with splendor! Yes, autumn loves the hills, and pours her +brawling brooks, swarming with leaves, through thousands of hollows, +any one of which might make a master-piece on canvas. Some day we +shall have them--who knows?--and even the great mountain-ranges shall +be mastered by the coming man. + +We do not know the name of the "hollow" through which Verty came +on the bright morning of the day following the events we have just +related. But autumn had never dowered any spot more grandly. All the +trees were bright and dewy in the sunrise--birds were singing--and the +thousand variegated colors of the fall swept on from end to end of it, +swallowing the little stream, and breaking against the sky like a gay +fringe. + +Verty knew all this, and though he did not look at it, he saw it, and +his lips moved. + +Cloud pricked up his ears, and the hound gazed at his master +inquiringly. But Verty was musing; his large, dreamy eyes were fixed +with unalterable attention upon vacancy, and his drooping shoulders, +whereon lay the tangled mass of his chestnut hair, swayed regularly as +he moved. It only mingled with his musings--the bright scene--and grew +a part of them; he scarcely saw it. + +"Yes," he murmured, "yes, I think I am a Delaware!--a white? to dream +it! am I mad? The wild night-wind must have whispered to me while I +slept, and gone away laughing at me. I, the savage, the simple savage, +to think this was so! And yet--yes, yes--I did think so! Redbud said +it was thus--Redbud!" + +And the young man for a time was silent. + +"I wonder what Redbud thinks of me?" he murmured again, with his old +dreamy smile. "Can she find anything to like in me? What am I? Poor, +poor Verty--you are very weak, and the stream here is laughing at you. +You are a poor forest boy--there can be nothing in you for Redbud to +like. Oh! if she could! But we are friends, I know--about the other, +why think? what is it? Love!--what is love? It must be something +strange--or why do I feel as if to be friends was not enough? Love!" + +And Verty's head drooped. + +"Love, love!" he murmured. "Oh, yes! I know what it means! They laugh +at it--but they ought not to. It is heaven in the heart--sunshine in +the breast. Oh, I feel that what I mean by love is purer than the +whole wide world besides! Yes, yes--because I would die for her! I +would give my life to save her any suffering--her hand on my forehead +would be dearer and sweeter than the cool spring in the hills after a +weary, day-long hunt, when I come to it with hot cheeks and burnt-up +throat! Oh, yes! I may be an Indian, and be different--but this is all +to me--this feeling, as if I must go to her, and kneel down and tell +her that my life is gone from me when I am not near her--that I walk +and live like a man dreaming, when she does not smile on me and speak +to me!" + +Verty's head drooped, and his cheeks reddened with the ingenuous blush +of boyhood. Then he raised his head, and murmured, with a smile, which +made his face beautiful--so full of light and joy was it. + +"Yes--I think I am in love with Redbud--and she does not think it +wrong, I am sure--oh, I don't think she will think it wrong in me, and +turn against me, only because I love her!" + +Having arrived at this conclusion, Verty went along smiling, and +admiring the splendid tints of the foliage--drinking in the fresh, +breezy air of morning, and occasionally listening for the cries of +game--of deer, and turkey, pheasants, and the rest. He heard with his +quick ear many of these sounds: the still croak of the turkey, the +drumming of the pheasant; more than once saw disappear on a distant +hill, like a flying shadow, the fallow deer, which he had so often +chased and shot. But on that morning he could not leave his path to +follow the wild deer, or slay the lesser game, of which the copses +were full. Mastered by a greater passion even than hunting, Verty drew +near Apple Orchard--making signs with his head to the deer to go on +their way, and wholly oblivious of pheasants. + +He reached Apple Orchard just as the sun soared redly up above the +distant forest; and the old homestead waked up with it. Morning always +smiled on Apple Orchard, and the brilliant flush seemed, there, more +brilliant still; while all the happy breezes flying over it seemed to +regret their destiny which led them far away to other clouds. + +Verty always stopped for a moment on his way to and from Winchester, +to bid the inmates good morning; and these hours had come to be the +bright sunny spots in days otherwise full of no little languor. For +when was Daymon merry and light-hearted, separated from his love? It +is still the bright moment of meeting which swallows up all other +thoughts--around which the musing heart clusters all its joy and +hope--which is looked forward to and dreamed over, with longing, +dreamy, yet excited happiness. And this is the reason why the most +fatal blow which the young heart can suffer is a sudden warning that +there must be no more meetings. No more! when it dreams of and +clings to that thought of meeting, as the life and vital blood +of to-morrow!--when the heart is liquid--the eyes moist with +tenderness--the warp of thought woven of golden thread--at such a +moment for the blow of the wave to fall, and drown the precious argosy +with all its freight of love, and hope, and memory--this is the +supreme agony of youth, the last and most refined of tortures. + +Verty lived in the thought of meeting Redbud--his days were full of +her; but the hours he passed at Apple Orchard were the brightest. The +noonday culminated at dawn and sunset! + +As he approached the pleasant homestead now, his eyes lighted up, and +his face beamed with smiles. Redbud was standing in the porch waiting +for him. + +She was clad with her usual simplicity, and smiled gently as he +approached. Verty threw the bundle upon Cloud's mane, and came to her. + +They scarcely interchanged a word, but the hand of the girl was +imprisoned in his own; and the tenderness which had been slowly +gathering for months into love, pure, and deep, and strong, flushed +his ingenuous face, and made his eyes swim in tears. + +It was well that Verty was interrupted as he essayed to speak; for we +cannot tell what he would have said. He did not speak; for just as he +opened his lips, a gruff voice behind him uttered the words: + +"Well, sir! where is your business?" + + + + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +HOW VERTY AND MISS LAVINIA RAN A-TILT AT EACH OTHER, AND WHO WAS +OVERTHROWN. + + +The young man turned round: the gruff voice belonged to Judge Rushton. + +That gentleman had left his horse at the outer gate, and approached +the house on foot. Absorbed by his own thoughts, Verty had not seen +him--as indeed neither had Redbud--and the gruff voice gave the young +man the first intimation of his presence. + +"Well," repeated the lawyer, leaning on his knotty stick, and scowling +at the two young people from beneath his shaggy eyebrows, "what are +you standing there staring at me for? Am I a wild beast, a rhinoceros, +or a monster of any description, that you can't speak? I asked you why +you were not in town at your work?" + +Verty pointed to the horizon. + +"The day has only begun," he said. + +"Well, sir--" + +"And I stopped for only one minute, Mr. Rushton," added Verty." + +"One minute! Do you know, sir, that life is made up of minutes?" + +"Yes, sir," said Verty. + +"Well, if you know that, why do you trifle away your minutes? Don't +reply to me, young man," continued the shaggy bear, "I have no desire +to argue with you--I hate and despise arguing, and will not indulge +you. But remember this, Life is the struggle of a man to pay the debt +he owes to Duty. If he forgets his work, or neglects it, for paltry +gratifications of the senses or the feelings, he is disgraced--he is a +coward in the ranks--a deserter from the regiment--he is an absconding +debtor, sir, and will be proceeded against as such--remember that, +sir! A pretty thing for you here, when you have your duty to +your mother to perform, to be thus dallying and cooing with this +baby--ough!" + +And the lawyer scowled at Redbud with terrible emphasis. + +Redbud knew Mr. Rushton well,--and smiled. She was rather grateful to +him for having interrupted an interview which her woman-instinct told +had commenced critically; and though Redbud could not, perhaps, have +told any one what she feared, still this instinct spoke powerfully to +her. + +It was with a smile, therefore, that Redbud held out her hand to Mr. +Rushton, and said: + +"Please don't scold Verty--he won't stay long, and he just stopped to +ask how we all were." + +"Humph!" replied the lawyer, his scowling brow relaxing somewhat as he +felt the soft, warm little hand in his own,--"humph! that's the way it +always is. He only stopped to say good morning to 'all;'--I suspect +his curiosity was chiefly on the subject of a single member of the +family." + +And a grim smile corrugated--so to speak--the rugged countenance. + +Redbud blushed slightly, and said: + +"Verty likes us all very much, and--" + +"Not a doubt of it!" said the lawyer, "and no doubt 'we all' like +Verty! Come, you foolish children, don't be bothering me with your +nonsense. And you, Mr. Verty--you need'nt be so foolish as to consider +everything I say so harsh as you seem to. You'll go next and tell +somebody that old Rushton is an ill-natured huncks, without conscience +or proper feeling; that he grumbled with you for stopping a moment to +greet your friends. If you say any such thing," added Mr. Rushton, +scowling at the young man, "you will be guilty of as base a +slander--yes, sir! as base a slander, sir!--as imagination could +invent!" + +And with a growl, the speaker turned from Verty, and said, roughly, to +Redbud: + +"Where's your father?"' + +"Here I am," said the bluff and good-humored voice of the Squire, from +the door; "you are early--much obliged to you." And the Squire and +lawyer shook hands. Mr. Rushton's hand fell coldly to his side, and +regarding the Squire for a moment with what seemed an expression +of contemptuous anger, he said, frowning, until his shaggy, grey +eye-brows met together almost: + +"Early! I suppose I am to take up the whole forenoon--the most +valuable part of the day--jogging over the country to examine +title-deeds and accounts? Humph! if you expect anything of the sort, +you are mistaken. No, sir! I started from Winchester at day-break, +without my breakfast, and here I am." + +The jovial Squire laughed, and turning from Verty, with whom he had +shaken hands, said to the lawyer: + +"Breakfast?--is it possible? Well, Rushton, for once I will be +magnanimous--magnificent, generous and liberal--" + +"What!" growled the lawyer. + +"You shall have some breakfast here!" finished the Squire, laughing +heartily; and the merry old fellow caught Miss Redbud up from the +porch, deposited a matutinal salute upon her lips, and kicking at old +Caesar as he passed, by way of friendly greeting, led the way into the +breakfast room. + +Verty made a movement to depart, inasmuch as he had breakfasted; but +the vigilant eye of the lawyer detected this suspicious manoeuvre; +and the young man found himself suddenly commanded to remain, by the +formula "Wait!" uttered with a growl which might have done honor to a +lion. + +Verty was not displeased at this interference with his movements, and, +obedient to a sign, followed the lawyer into the breakfast-room. + +Everything was delightfully comfortable and cheerful there. + +And ere long, at the head of the table sat Miss Lavinia, silent and +dignified; at the foot, the Squire, rubbing his hands, heaping plates +with the savory broil before him, and talking with his mouth full; at +the sides, Mr. Rushton, Redbud and Verty, who sedulously suppressed +the fact that he had already breakfasted, for obvious reasons, +doubtless quite plain to the reader. + +The sun streamed in upon the happy group, and seemed to smile with +positive delight at sight of Redbud's happy face, surrounded by its +waving mass of curls--and soft blue eyes, which were the perfection of +tenderness and joy. + +He smiled on Verty, too, the jovial sun, and illumined the young man's +handsome, dreamy face, and profuse locks, and uncouth hunter costume, +with a gush of light which made him like a picture of some antique +master, thrown upon canvas in a golden mood, to live forever. All +the figures and objects in the room were gay in the bright sunlight, +too--the shaggy head of Mr. Rushton, and the jovial, ruddy face of the +Squire, and Miss Lavinia's dignified and stately figure, solemn and +imposing, flanked by the silver jug and urn--and on the old ticking +clock, and antique furniture, and smiling portraits, and recumbent +Caesar, did it shine, merry and laughing, taking its pastime ere it +went away to other lands, like a great, cheerful simple soul, smiling +at nature and all human life. + +And the talk of all was like the sunshine. The old Squire was king of +the breakfast table, and broke many a jesting shaft at one and all, +not even sparing the stately Miss Lavinia, and the rugged bear who +scowled across the table. + +"Good bread for once," said the Squire, slashing into the smoking +loaf; astonishing how dull those negroes are--not to be able to learn +such a simple thing as baking." + +"Simple!" muttered the lawyer, "it is not simple! If you recollected +something of chemistry, you would acknowledge that baking bread was no +slight achievement." + +"Come, growl again," said his host, laughing; "come, now, indulge your +habit, and say the bread is sour." + +"It is!" + +"What!--sour!" + +"Yes." + +The Squire stands aghast--or rather sits, laboring under that +sentiment. + +"It is the best bread we have had for six months," he says, at length, +"and as sweet as a nut." + +"You have no taste," says Mr. Rushton. + +"No taste?" + +"None: and the fact that it is the best you have had for six months is +not material testimony. You may have had _lead_ every morning--humph!" + +And Mr. Rushton continues his breakfast. + +The Squire laughs. + +"There you are--in a bad humor," he says. + +"I am not." + +"Come! say that the broil is bad!" + +"It is burnt to a cinder." + +"Burnt? Why it's underdone!" + +"Well, sir--every man to his taste--you may have yours; leave me +mine." + +"Oh, certainly; I see you are determined to like nothing. You'll say +next that Lavinia's butter is not sweet." + +The lawyer growls. + +"I have no desire to offend Miss Lavinia," he says, solemnly; "but +I'll take my oath that there's garlic in it--yes, sir, garlic!" + +The Squire bursts into a roar of laughter. + +"Good!" he cries--"you are in a cheerful and contented mood. You drop +in just when Lavinia has perfected her butter, and made it as fresh as +a nosegay; and when the cook has sent up bread as sweet as a kernel, +to say nothing of the broil, done to a turn--you come when this highly +desirable state of things has been arrived at, and presume to say that +this is done, that is burnt, the other is tainted with garlic! Admire +your own judgment!" + +And the Squire laughs jovially at his discomfited and growling +opponent. + +"True, Lavinia has had lately much to distract her attention," says +the jest-hunting Squire; "but her things were never better in spite +of--. Well we won't touch upon that subject!" + +And the mischievous Squire laughs heartily at Miss Lavinia's stately +and reproving expression. + +"What's that?" says Mr. Rushton; "what subject?" + +"Oh, nothing--nothing." + +"What does he mean, madam?" asks Mr. Rushton, of the lady. + +Miss Lavinia colors slightly, and looks more stately than ever. + +"Nothing, sir," she says, with dignity. + +"'Nothing!' nobody ever means anything!" + +"Oh, never," says the Squire, and then he adds, +mischievously,--"by-the-by, Rushton, how is my friend, Mr. +Roundjacket?" + +"As villainous as ever," says the lawyer; "my opinion of Mr. +Roundjacket, sir, is, that he is a villain!" + +Miss Lavinia colors to the temples--the Squire nearly bursts with +pent-up laughter. + +"What has he done? A villain did you say?" he asks. + +"Yes, sir!--a wretch!" + +"Possible?" + +"Yes--it is possible: and if you knew as much of human nature as I do, +you would never feel surprised at any man's turning out a villain and +a wretch! I am a wretch myself, sir!" + +And scowling at the Squire, Mr. Rushton goes on with his breakfast. + +The Squire utters various inarticulate sounds which seem to indicate +the stoppage of a bone in his throat. Nevertheless he soon recovers +his powers of speech, and says: + +"But how is Roundjacket so bad?" + +"He has taken to writing poetry." + +"That's an old charge." + +"No, sir--he has grown far worse, lately. He is writing an epic--an +epic!" + +And the lawyer looked inexpressibly disgusted. + +"I should think a gentleman might compose an epic poem without +rendering himself amenable to insult, sir," says Miss Lavinia, with +freezing hauteur. + +"You are mistaken," says Mr. Rushton; "your sex, madam, know nothing +of business. The lawyer who takes to writing poetry, must necessarily +neglect the legal business entrusted to him, and for which he is paid. +Now, madam," added Mr. Rushton, triumphantly, "I defy you, or any +other man--individual, I mean--to say that the person who takes money +without giving an equivalent, is not a villain and a wretch!" + +Miss Lavinia colors, and mutters inarticulately. + +"Such a man," said Mr. Rushton, with dreadful solemnity, "is already +on his way to the gallows; he has already commenced the downward +course of crime. From this, he proceeds to breach of promise--I mean +any promise, not of marriage only, madam--then to forging, then to +larceny, and finally to burglary and murder. There, madam, that is +what I mean--I defy you to deny the truth of what I say!" + +The Squire could endure the pressure upon his larynx no longer, and +exploded like a bomb-shell; or if not in so terrible a manner, at +least nearly as loudly. + +No one can tell what the awful sentiments of Mr. Rushton, on the +subject of Roundjacket would have led to, had not the Squire come to +the rescue. + +"Well, well," he said, still laughing, "it is plain, my dear Rushton, +that for once in your life you are not well posted up on the 'facts of +your case,' and you are getting worse and worse in your argument, to +say nothing of the prejudice of the jury. Come, let us dismiss the +subject. I don't think Mr. Roundjacket, however, will turn out a +murderer, which would be a horrible blow to me, as I knew his worthy +father well, and often visited him at 'Flowery Lane,' over yonder. But +the discussion is unprofitable--hey! what do you think, Verty, and +you, Miss Redbud?" + +Verty raises his head and smiles. + +"I am very fond of Mr. Roundjacket," he says. + +"Fond of him?" + +"Yes, sir: he likes me too, I think," Verty says. + +"How does he show it, my boy?" + +"He gives me advice, sir." + +"What! and you like him for that?" + +"Oh, yes, sir." + +"Well, perhaps the nature of the advice may modify my surprise at your +gratitude, Verty." + +"_Anan_, sir?" + +"What advice does he give you?" + +Verty laughs. + +"Must I tell, sir? I don't know if--" + +And Verty blushes slightly, looking at Miss Lavinia and Redbud. + +"Come, speak out!" laughs the Squire. "He advises you--" + +"Not to get married." + +And Verty blushes. + +We need not say that the wicked old Squire greets this reply of Verty +with a laugh sufficient to shake the windows. + +"Not to get married!" he cries. + +"Yes, sir," Verty replies, blushing ingenuously. + +"And you like Mr. Roundjacket, you say, because he advises you not to +get--" + +"No, oh! no, sir!" interrupts Verty, with sudden energy, "oh! no, sir, +I did not mean that!" + +And the young man, embarrassed by his own vehemence, and the eyes +directed toward his face, hangs his head and blushes. Yes, the bold, +simple, honest Verty, blushes, and looks ashamed, and feels as if he +is guilty of some dreadful crime. Do. not the best of us, under the +same circumstances?--that is to say, if we have the good fortune to be +young and innocent. + +The Squire looks at Verty and laughs; then at Miss Lavinia. + +"So, it seems," he says, "that Mr. Roundjacket counsels a bachelor +life, eh? Good! he is a worthy professor, but an indifferent +practitioner. The rascal! Did you ever hear of such a thing, Lavinia? +I declare, if I were a lady, I should decline to recognize, among my +acquaintances, the upholder of such doctrines--especially when he +poisons the ears of boys like Verty with them!" + +And the Squire continues to laugh. + +"Perhaps," says Miss Lavinia, with stately dignity, and glancing at +Verty as she speaks,--"perhaps the--hem--circumstances which induced +Mr. Roundjacket to give the advice, might have been--been--peculiar." + +And Miss Lavinia smooths down her black silk with dignity. + +"Peculiar?" + +"Yes," says the lady, glancing this time at Redbud. + +"How was it, Verty?" the Squire says, turning to the young man. + +Verty, conscious of his secret, blushes and stammers; for how can he +tell the Squire that Mr. Roundjacket and himself were discussing the +propriety of his marrying Redbud? He is no longer the open, frank, and +fearless Verty of old days--he has become a dissembler, for he is in +love. + +"I don't know--oh, sir--I could'nt--Mr. Roundjacket--" + +The Squire laughs. + +"There's some secret here," he says; "out with it, Verty, or it +will choke you. Come, Rushton, you are an adept--cross-examine the +witness." + +Mr. Rushton growls. + +"You won't--then I will." + +"Perhaps the time, and the subject of conversation, might aid you," +says Miss Lavinia, who is nettled at Verty, and thus is guily of what +she is afterwards ashamed of. + +"A good idea," says the Squire; "and I am pleased to see, Lavinia, +that you take so much interest in Verty and Mr. Roundjacket." + +Miss Lavinia blushes, and looks solemn and stiff. + +"Hum!" continues the Squire. "Oyez! the court is opened! First +witness, Mr. Verty! Where, sir, did this conversation occur?" + +Verty smiles and colors. + +"At Mr. Roundjacket's, sir," he replies. + +"The hour, as near as you can recollect." + +"In the forenoon, sir." + +"Were there any circumstances which tend to fix the hour, and the day, +in your mind?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What were they?" + +"I recollect that Miss Lavinia called to see Mr. Roundjacket that day, +sir; and as she generally comes into town on Tuesday or Wednesday, +soon after breakfast it must have been--" + +Verty is interrupted by a chair pushed back from the table. It is Miss +Lavinia, who, rising, with a freezing "excuse me," sails from the +room. + +The Squire bursts into a roar of laughter, and leaving the table, +follows her, and is heard making numerous apologies for his wickedness +in the next room. He returns with the mischievious smile, and says: + +"There, Verty! you are a splendid fellow, but you committed a +blunder." + +And laughing, the Squire adds: + +"Will you come and see the titles, Rushton?" + +The lawyer growls, rises, and bidding Verty remain until he comes out, +follows the Squire. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIV. + +THE ROSE OF GLENGARY. + + +Redbud rose, smiling, and with the gentle simplicity of one child to +another, said: + +"Oh! you ought not to have said that about cousin Lavinia, +Verty--ought you?" + +Verty looked guilty. + +"I don't think I ought," he said. + +"You know she is very sensitive about this." + +"Anan?" Verty said, smiling. + +Redbud looked gently at the young man, and replied: + +"I mean, she does not like any one to speak of it?" + +"Why?" said Verty. + +"Because--because--engaged people are so funny!" + +And Redbud's silver laughter followed the words. + +"Are they?" Verty said. + +"Yes, indeed." + +Verty nodded. + +"Next time I will be more thoughtful," he said; "but I think I ought +to have answered honestly." + +Redbud shook her curls with a charming little expression of affected +displeasure. + +"Oh, no! no!" + +"Not answer?" + +"Certainly not, sir--fie! in the cause of ladies!" + +Verty laughed. + +"I understand," he said, "you are thinking of the books about the +knights--the old Froissart, yonder, in four volumes. But you know +there were'nt any courts in those days, and knights were not obliged +to answer." + +Redbud, training up a drooping vine, replied, laughing: + +"Oh, no--I was only jesting. Don't mind my nonsense. Look at that +pretty morning-glory." + +Verty looked at Redbud, as if she were the object in question. + +"You will hurt your hand," he said,--"those thorns on the briar are so +sharp; take care!" + +And Verty grasped the vine, and, no doubt, accidentally, Redbud's hand +with it. + +"Now I have it," he said; and suddenly seeing the double meaning of +his words, the young man added, with a blush and a smile, "it is all I +want in the world." + +"What? the--oh!" + +And Miss Redbud, suddenly aware of Mr. Verty's meaning, finds her +voice rather unsafe, and her cheeks covered with blushes. But with +the tact of a grown woman, she applies herself to the defeat of her +knight; and, turning away, says, as easily as possible: + +"Oh, yes--the thorn; it is a pretty vine; take care, or it will hurt +your hand." + +Verty feels astounded at his own boldness, but says, with his dreamy +Indian smile: + +"Oh, no, I don't want the thorn--the rose!--the rose!" + +Redbud understands that this is only a paraphrase--after the Indian +fashion--for her own name, and blushes again. + +"We--were--speaking of cousin Lavinia," she says, hesitatingly. + +Verty sighs. + +"Yes," he returns. + +Redbud smiles. + +"And I was scolding you for replying to papa's question," she adds. + +Verty sighs again, and says: + +"I believe you were right; I don't think I could have told them what +we were talking about." + +"Why?" asks the young girl. + +"We were talking about you," says Verty, gazing at Redbud tenderly; +"and you will think me very foolish," adds Verty, with a tremor in +his voice; "but I was asking Mr. Roundjacket if he thought you +could--love--me--O, Redbud--" + +Verty is interrupted by the appearance of Miss Lavinia. + +Redbud turns away, blushing, and overwhelmed with confusion. + +Miss Lavinia comes to the young man, and holds out her hand. + +"I did not mean to hurt your feelings, just now, Verty," she says, +"pardon me if I made you feel badly. I was somewhat nettled, I +believe." + +And having achieved this speech, Miss Lavinia stiffens again into +imposing dignity, sails away into the house, and disappears, leaving +Verty overwhelmed with surprise. + +He feels a hand laid upon his arm;--a blushing face looks frankly and +kindly into his own. + +"Don't let us talk any more in that way, Verty, please," says the +young girl, with the most beautiful frankness and ingenuousness; "we +are friends and playmates, you know; and we ought not to act toward +each other as if we were grown gentleman and lady. Please do not; it +will make us feel badly, I am sure. I am only Redbud, you know, and +you are Verty, my friend and playmate. Shall I sing you one of our old +songs?" + +The soft, pure voice sounded in his ears like some fine melody of +olden poets--her frank, kind eyes, as she looked at him, soothed and +quieted him. Again, she was the little laughing star of his childhood, +as when they wandered about over the fields--little children--that +period so recent, yet which seemed so far away, because the opening +heart lives long in a brief space of time. Again, she was to him +little Redbud, he to her was the boy-playmate Verty. She had done all +by a word--a look; a kind, frank smile, a single glance of confiding +eyes. He loved her more than ever--yes, a thousand times more +strongly, and was calm. + +He followed her to the harpsichord, and watched her in every movement, +with quiet happiness; he seemed to be under the influence of a charm. + +"I think I will try and sing the 'Rose of Glengary,'" she said, +smiling; "you know, Verty, it is one of the old songs you loved so +much, and it will make us think of old times--in childhood, you know; +though that is not such old, _old_ time--at least for me," added +Redbud, with a smile, more soft and confiding than before. "Shall I +sing it? Well, give me the book--the brown-backed one." + +The old volume--such as we find to-day in ancient country-houses--was +opened, and Redbud commenced singing. The girl sang the sweet ditty +with much expression; and her kind, touching voice filled the old +homestead with a tender melody, such as the autumn time would utter, +could its spirit become vocal. The clear, tender carol made the place +fairy-land for Verty long years afterwards, and always he seemed to +hear her singing when he visited the room. Redbud sang afterwards more +than one of those old ditties--"Jock o' Hazeldean," and "Flowers of +the Forest," and many others--ditties which, for us to-day, seem like +so many utterances of the fine old days in the far past. + +For, who does not hear them floating above those sweet fields of the +olden time--those bright Hesperian gardens, where, for us at least, +the fruits are all golden, and the airs all happy? + +Beautiful, sad ditties of the brilliant past! not he who writes would +have you lost from memory, for all the modern world of music. Kind +madrigals! which have an aroma of the former day in all your cadences +and dear old fashioned trills--from whose dim ghosts now, in the faded +volumes stored away in garrets and on upper shelves, we gather what +you were in the old immemorial years! Soft melodies of another age, +that sound still in the present with such moving sweetness, one +heart at least knows what a golden treasure you clasp, and listens +thankfully when you deign to issue out from silence; for he finds in +you alone--in your gracious cadences, your gay or stately voices--what +he seeks; the life, and joy, and splendor of the antique day sacred to +love and memory! + +And Verty felt the nameless charm of the good old songs, warbled by +the young girl's sympathetic voice; and more than once his wild-wood +nature stirred within him, and his eyes grew moist. And when she +ceased, and the soft carol went away to the realm of silence, and was +heard no more, the young man was a child again; and Redbud's hand was +in his own, and all his heart was still. + +The girl rose, with a smile, and said that they had had quite enough +of the harpsichord and singing--the day was too beautiful to spend +within doors. And so she ran gaily to the door, and as she reached it, +uttered a gay exclamation. Ralph and Fanny were seen approaching from +the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER LXV. + +PROVIDENCE. + + +Ralph was mounted, as usual, upon his fine sorrel, and Fanny rode a +little milk-white pony, which the young man had procured for her. We +need not say that Miss Fanny looked handsome and coquettish, or Mr. +Ralph merry and good-humored. Laughter was Fanny's by undoubted right, +unless her companion could contest the palm. + +Miss Fanny's first movement, after dismounting, was to clasp Miss +Redbud to her bosom with enthusiastic affection, as is the habit with +young ladies upon public occasions; and then the fair equestrian +recognized Verty's existence by a fascinating smile, which caused the +unfortunate Ralph to gaze and sigh. + +"Oh, Redbud!" cried Miss Fanny, laughing, and shaking gaily her ebon +curls, "you can't think what a delightful ride I've had--with Ralph, +you know, who has'nt been half as disagreeable as usual--" + +"Come," interposed Ralph, "that's too bad!" + +"Not for you, sir!" + +"Even for me." + +"Well, then, I'll say you are more agreeable than usual." + +"That is better, though some might doubt whether that was possible." + +"Ralph, you are a conceited, fine gentleman, and positively dreadful." + +"Ah, you dread me!" + +"No, sir!" + +"Well, that is not fair--for I am afraid of you. The fact is, Miss +Redbud," continued Ralph, turning to the young girl, "I have fallen +deeply in love with Fanny, lately--" + +"Oh, sir!" said Redbud, demurely. + +"But I have not told you the best of the joke." + +"What is that?" + +"She's in love with me." + +And Ralph directed a languishing glance toward Fanny, who cried out: + +"Impudence! to say that I am in love with you. It's too bad, Ralph, +for you to be talking so!" added Fanny, pouting and coloring, "and +I'll thank you not to talk so any more." + +"Why not?" + +"I'll be offended." + +"That will make you lovely." + +"Mr. Ashley!" + +"Miss Temple!" + +And striking an attitude, Mr. Ashley waited for Fanny's communication. + +Redbud smiled, and turning to Fanny, said: + +"Come, now, don't quarrel--and come in and take off your things." + +"Oh, I can't," cried the volatile Fanny, laughing--"Ralph and myself +just called by; we are past our time now. That horrid old Miss +Sallianna will scold me, though she does talk about the beauties of +nature--I wonder if she considers her front curls included!" + +And Miss Fanny tossed her own, and laughed in defiance of the absent +Sallianna. + +At the same moment the Squire came out with Mr. Rushton, and called to +Redbud. The young girl ran to him. + +"Would you like a ride, little one?" said the Squire, "Miss Lavinia +and myself are going to town." + +"Oh, yes, sir!" + +"But your visitors--" + +"Fanny says she cannot stay." + +Fanny ran up to speak for herself; and while Redbud hastened to her +room to prepare for the ride, this young lady commenced a triangular +duel with the Squire and Mr. Ralph, which caused a grim smile to light +upon Mr. Rushton's face, for an instant, so to speak. + +The carriage then drove up with its old greys, and Miss Lavinia and +Redbud entered. Before rode the Squire and Mr. Rushton; behind, Ralph +and Fanny. + +As for Verty, he kept by the carriage, and talked with Redbud and Miss +Lavinia, who seemed to have grown very good-humored and friendly. + +Redbud had not ridden out since her return to Apple Orchard, and the +fresh, beautiful day made her cheeks bright and her eyes brilliant. +The grass, the trees, the singing birds, and merry breezes, spoke to +her in their clear, happy voices, and her eye dwelt fondly on every +object, so old, and familiar, and dear. + +Is it wonderful that not seldom her glance encountered Verty's, and +they exchanged smiles? His face was the face of her boy playmate--it +was very old and familiar; who can say that it was not more--that it +was not dear? + +And so they passed the old gate, with all its apple trees, and the +spot where the great tree stood, through whose heart was bored the +aperture for the cider press beam--and through the slope beyond, +leaving the overseer's house, babies and all, behind, and issued forth +into the highway leading to the ancient borough of Winchester. + +And gazing on the happy autumn fields, our little heroine smiled +brightly, and felt very thankful in her heart to Him who dowered her +life with all that beauty, and joy, and happiness; and ever and anon +her hand would be raised absently toward her neck, where it played +with the old coral necklace taken from the drawer in which it had been +laid--by accident, we should say, if there were any accident. And so +they approached the town. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVI. + +THE HOUR AND THE NECKLACE. + + +As they entered the town, something strange seemed to be going on; the +place was evidently in commotion. A great thrill seemed to run through +the population, who were gathered at the doors and windows--such of +them as did not throng the streets; and as the hoofs of the horses +struck upon the beaten way, a drum suddenly was heard thundering +indignantly through the narrow streets. + +The crowd rushed toward it--hurried, muttering, armed with nondescript +weapons, as though the Indians were come down from the mountain +fastnesses once more; and then, as the cortege from Apple Orchard +passed beyond the old fort, the meaning of all the commotion was +visible. + +Marching slowly along in confused masses, a large portion of the Irish +population came toward the fort, and from their appearance, these men +seemed ripe for commotion. + +They were armed with clubs, heavy canes, bludgeons, and old rusty +swords; and these weapons were flourished in the air in a way which +seemed to indicate the desire to inflict death and destruction on some +hostile party which did not appear. + +But the most singular portion of the pageant was undoubtedly the +personage borne aloft by the shouting crowd. This was the Dutch St. +Michael himself--portly, redfaced, with a necklace of sour krout, +clad, as had been said by Mr. Jinks, in six pairs of pantaloons, and +resembling a hogshead. + +St. Michael was borne aloft on a species of platform, supported on +the shoulders of a dozen men; and when the saint raised the huge beer +glass from his knee, and buried his white beard in it, the swaying +crowd set up a shout which shook the houses. + +This was the Irish defiance of the Dutch: the Emerald Isle against +the Low Countries--St. Patrick against St. Michael. The figure of St. +Michael was paraded in defiance of the Dutch--the thundering drum and +echoing shouts were all so many ironical and triumphant defiances. + +The shouting crowd came on, tramping heavily, brandishing their clubs, +and eager for the fray. + +Miss Lavinia becomes terrified; the ladies of the party, by an +unanimous vote, decide that they will draw up to one side by Mr. +Rushton's office, and permit the crowd to pass. Mr. Rushton desires to +advance upon the peacebreakers, and engage in single combat with St. +Michael and all his supporters. + +The Squire dissuades him--and growling contemptuously, the lawyer does +not further oppose the desire of the ladies. + +Then from Mr. Rushton's office comes hastily our friend Mr. +Roundjacket--smiling, flourishing his ruler, and pointing, with +well-bred amusement, to the crowd. The crowd look sidewise at Mr. +Roundjacket, who returns them amiable smiles, and brandishes his +ruler in pleasant recognition of Hibernian friends and clients in the +assemblage. + +Roundjacket thinks the ladies need not be alarmed. Still, as there +will probably be a fight soon, they had better get out and come in. + +Roundjacket is the public character when he speaks thus--he is +flourishing his ruler. It is only when Miss Lavinia has descended that +he ogles that lady. Suddenly, however, he resumes his noble and lofty +carriage, and waves the ruler at his friend, St. Michael--tailor and +client--by name, O'Brallaghan. + +The crowd passes on, with thundering drums and defiant shouts; and our +party, from Apple Orchard, having affixed their horses to the wall, +near at hand, gaze on the masquerade from Mr. Rushton's office. + +We have given but a few words to the strange pageant which swept on +through the main street of the old border town; and this because any +accurate description is almost wholly impossible. Let the reader +endeavor to imagine Pandemonium broke loose, with all its burly +inmates, and thundering voices, and _outré_ forms, and, perhaps, the +general idea in his mind may convey to him some impression of the rout +which swept by with its shouts and mad defiances. + +Some were clad in coat and pantaloons only; others had forgotten the +coat, and exposed brawny and hirsute torsos to the October sun, and +swelling muscles worthy of Athletes. + +Others, again, were almost _sans-culottes_, only a remnant being left, +which made the deficiency more tantalizingly painful to the eye. + +Let the reader, then, imagine this spectacle of torn garments, +tattered hats, and brandished clubs--not forgetting the tatterdemalion +negro children, who ran after the crowd in the last state of +dilapidation, and he will have some slight idea of the masquerade, +over which rode, in supreme majesty, the trunk-nosed Mr. O'Brallaghan. + +We need not repeat the observations of the ladies; or detail their +exclamations, fears, and general behavior. Like all members of the +fair sex, they made a virtue of necessity, and assumed the most +winning expressions of timidity and reliance on their cavaliers; and +even Miss Lavinia reposed upon a settee, and exclaimed that it was +dreadful--very dreadful and terrifying. + +Thereat, Mr. Roundjacket rose into the hero, and alluded to the crowd +with dignified amusement; and when Miss Lavinia said, in a low voice, +that other lives were precious to her besides her own--evidently +referring to Mr. Roundjacket--that gentleman brandished his ruler, and +declared that life was far less valuable than her smiles. + +In another part of the room Ralph and Fanny laughed and +jested--opposite them. Mr. Rushton indignantly shook his fist in the +direction of the crowd, and vituperated the Hibernian nation, in a +manner shocking to hear. + +Verty was leaning on the mantel-piece, as quietly as if there was +nothing to attract his attention. He had pushed Cloud through the mass +with the unimpressed carriage of the Indian hunter; and his dreamy +eyes were far away--he listened to other sounds than shouts, perhaps +to a maiden singing. + +The little singer--we refer to Miss Redbud--had been much terrified +by the crowd, and felt weak, owing to the recent sickness. She looked +round for a seat, and saw none. + +The door leading into the inner sanctum of Mr. Rushton then attracted +her attention, and seeing a comfortable chair within, she entered, and +sat down. + +Redbud uttered a sigh of weariness and relief, and then gazed around +her. + +The curtain was drawn back from the picture--the child's face was +visible. + +She went to it, and was lost in contemplation of the bright, pretty +face; when, as had happened with Verty, she felt a hand upon her +shoulder, and started. + +Mr. Rushton stood beside her. + +"Well, Miss!" he said, roughly, "what are you doing?" + +"Oh, sir!" Redbud replied, "I am sorry I offended you--but I saw this +pretty picture, and just come to look at it." + +"Humph!" growled the lawyer, "nothing can be kept private here." + +And, with a softened expression, he gazed at the picture. + +"It is very pretty," said Redbud, gently; "who was she, sir?" + +The lawyer was silent; he seemed afraid to trust his voice. At last he +said: + +"My child." + +And his voice was so pathetic, that Redbud felt the tears come to her +eyes. + +"Pardon me for making you grieve, Mr. Rushton," she said, softly, +"it was very thoughtless in me. But will you let me speak? She is in +heaven, you know; the dear Savior said himself, that the kingdom of +heaven was full of such." + +The lawyer's head bent down, and a hoarse sigh, which resembled the +growl of a lion, shook his bosom. + +Redbud's eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh, do not grieve, sir," she said, in a tremulous voice, "trust in +God, and believe that He is merciful and good." + +The poor stricken heart brimmed with its bitter and corroding agony; +and, raising his head, the lawyer said, coldly: + +"Enough? this may be very well for you, who have never suffered--it +is the idle wind to me! Trust in God? Away! the words are +fatuitous!--ough!" and wiping his moist brow, he added, coldly, "What +a fool I am, to be listening to a child!" + +Redbud, with her head bent down, made no reply. + +Her hand played, absently, with the coral necklace; without thinking, +she drew it with her hand. + +The time had come. + +The old necklace, worn by use, parted asunder, and fell upon the +floor. The lawyer, with his cold courtesy, picked it up. + +As he did so,--as his eye dwelt upon it, a strange expression flitted +across his rugged features. + +With a movement, as rapid as thought, he seized the gold clasp with +his left hand, and turned the inner side up. + +His eye was glued to it for a moment, his brow grew as pale as death, +and sinking into the old chair, he murmured hoarsely: + +"Where did you get this?" + +Redbud started, and almost sobbing, could not reply. + +He caught her by the wrist, with sudden vehemence, and holding the +necklace before her, said: + +"Look!" + +Upon the inside of the gold plate were traced, in almost illegible +lines, the letters, "A.R." + +"It was my child's!" he said, hoarsely; "where did you get it?" + +Redbud, with a tremor which she could not restrain, told how she had +purchased the necklace from a pedlar; she knew no more; did not know +his name--but recollected that he was a German, from his accent. + +The lawyer fell into his chair, and was silent: his strong frame from +time to time trembled--his bosom heaved. + +At last he raised his face, which seemed to have sunken away in the +last few moments, and still holding the necklace tightly, motioned +Redbud toward the door. + +"We--will--speak further of this," he said, his voice charged with +tears; and with a slow movement of his head up and down, he again +desired Redbud to leave him. + +She went out:--the last she saw was Mr. Rushton clasping the necklace +to his lips, and sobbing bitterly, + +In the outer room they laughed and jested gaily. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVII. + +HOW ST. PATRICK ENCOUNTERED ST. MICHAEL, AND WHAT ENSUED. + + +As Redbud entered the outer room, the talkers suddenly became silent, +and ran to the windows. + +The procession has returned:--the pageant has retraced its steps:--the +swaying, shouting, battle-breathing rout has made the northern end of +the town hideous, and comes back to make the portion already passed +over still more hideous. + +Hitherto the revellers have had a clear sweep--an unobstructed +highway. They have gone on in power and glory, conquering where there +was no enemy, defying where there was no adversary. + +But this all changes suddenly, and a great shout roars up from a +hundred mouths. + +Another drum is heard; mutterings from the southern end of the town +respond. + +The followers of the maligned and desecrated Michael are in battle +array--the Dutch are out to protect their saint, and meet the Irish +world in arms. + +They come on in a tumultuous mass: they sway, they bend, they leap, +they shout. The other half of Pandemonium has turned out, and +surrounding ears are deafened by the demoniac chorus. + +In costume they are not dissimilar to their enemies--in rotundity they +are superior, however, if not in brawn. Every other warrior holds his +pipe between his teeth, and all brandish nondescript weapons, like +their enemies, the Irish. + +And as the great crowd draws near, the crowning peculiarity of the +pageant is revealed to wondering eyes. + +The Dutch will have their defiant masquerade no less than their +enemies: the Irish parade St. Michael in derision: their's be it to +show the world an effigy of St. Patrick. + +Borne, like St. Michael, on a platform raised above the universal +head, in proud pre-eminence behold the great St. Patrick, and his wife +Sheeley! + +St. Patrick is tall and gaunt, from his contest with the serpents of +the emerald isle. He wears a flowing robe, which nevertheless permits +his slender, manly legs to come out and be visible. He boasts a shovel +hat, adorned with a gigantic sprig of shamrock: he sits upon the +chest in which, if historical tradition truly speaks, the great boa +constrictor of Killarney was shut up and sunk into the waters of the +lake. Around his neck is a string of Irish potatoes--in his hand a +shillelah. + +Beside him sits his wife Sheeley, rotund and ruddy, with a coronet of +potatoes, a necklace of potatoes, a breastpin of potatoes--and lastly, +an apron full of potatoes. She herself resembled indeed a gigantic +potatoe, and philologians might have conjectured that her very name +was no more than a corruption of the adjective mealy. + +The noble saint and his wife came on thus far above the roaring crowd, +and as they draw nearer, lo! the saint and Sheeley are revealed. + +The saint is personated by the heroic Mr. Jinks--his wife is +represented by Mistress O'Calligan! + +This is the grand revenge of Mr. Jinks--this is the sweet morsel which +he has rolled beneath his tongue for days--this is the refinement of +torture he has mixed for the love-sick O'Brallaghan, who personates +the opposing Michael. + +As the adversaries see their opponents, they roar--as they catch sight +of their patron saints thus raised aloft derisively, they thunder. The +glove is thrown, the die is cast--in an instant they are met in deadly +battle. + +Would that our acquaintance with the historic muse were sufficiently +intimate to enable us to invoke her aid on this occasion. But she is +far away, thinking of treaties and protocols, and "eventualities" far +in the orient, brooding o'er lost Sebastopol. + +The reader therefore must be content with hasty words. + +The first item of the battle worthy to be described, is the downward +movement of the noble saints from their high position. + +Once in the melee, clutching at their enemies, the combatants become +oblivious of saintly affairs. The shoulders of the platform bearers +bend--the platforms tumble--St. Patrick grapples with St. Michael, who +smashes his pewter beer-pot down upon the shamrock. + +The shamrock rises--wild and overwhelmed with terror, recreant to +Ireland, and quailing before Michael, who has stumbled over Sheeley. + +Mr. Jinks retreats through the press before O'Brallaghan, who pursues +him with horrible ferocity, breathing vengeance, and on fire with +rage. + +O'Brallaghan grasps Jinks' robe--the robe is torn from his back, and +O'Brallaghan falls backwards: then rises, still overwhelmed with rage. + +Jinks suddenly sees a chance of escape--he has intrusted Fodder to a +boy, who rides now in the middle of the press. + +He tears the urchin from the saddle, seizes a club, and leaping +upon Fodder's back, brandishes his weapon, and cheers on his men to +victory. + +But accidents will happen even to heroes. Mr. Jinks is not a great +rider--it is his sole weak point. Fodder receiving a blow behind, +starts forward--then stops, kicking up violently. + +The forward movement causes the shoulders of Mr. Jinks to fly down on +the animal's back, the legs of Mr. Jinks to rise into the air. The +backward movement of the donkey's heels interposes at this moment to +knock Mr. Jinks back to his former position. + +But his feet are out of the stirrups, he cannot keep his seat; and +suddenly he feels a hand upon his leg--his enemy glares on him; he is +whirled down to the earth, and O'Brallaghan has caught his prey. + +The stormy combat, with its cries, and shouts, and blows, and +imprecations, closes over them, and all seems lost for Jinks. + +Not so. When fate seems to lower darkest, sunlight comes. O'Brallaghan +has brought his stalwart fist down on Mr. Jinks' nose but once, has +scarcely caused the "gory blood" of that gentleman to spout forth from +the natural orifices, when a vigorous female hand is laid upon his +collar, and he turns. + +It is Mistress O'Calligan Sheeley come to the rescue of her husband. + +O'Brallaghan is pulled from Jinks--that hero rises, and attempts to +flee. + +He rushes into the arms of another lady, who, in passing near the +crowd, has been caught up like a leaf and buried in the combat--Miss +Sallianna. + +But fate is again adverse, though impartial. Mr. Jinks and +O'Brallaghan are felled simultaneously by mighty blows, and the rout +closes over them. + +As they fall, a swaying motion in the crowd is felt--the authorities +have arrived--the worn-out combatants draw off, sullenly, and the dead +and wounded only are left upon the field. + +The crowd retires--they have had their fight, and broken numerous +heads. They have vindicated the honor of their Saints--to-morrow they +are friends and neighbors again. + +One beautiful and touching scene is left for aftertimes--one picture +which even the historic muse might have paused near, and admired. + +Two lovely dames contend for the privilege of holding a bloody +warrior's head, whose nose is injured. + +It is Mr. Jinks, Miss Judith, and Miss Sallianna. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVIII. + +THE END OF THE CHAIN. + + +We are conscious that the description of the great battle just given +is but a poor and lame delineation, and we can only plead defective +powers in that department of art--the treatment of battle-pieces. + +We cannot describe the appearance of the battle-field after the +combat, any more than the contest. + +Wounded and crack-crowned, groaning and muttering heroes dragging +themselves away--this is the resumé which we find it in our power +alone to give. + +One hero only seems to be seriously injured. + +He is a man of forty-five or fifty, with a heavy black beard, thick +sensual lips, and dog-like face. He is clad roughly; and the few words +which he utters prove that he is a German. + +The fight has taken place opposite Mr. Rushton's office, and thither +this man is borne. + +Mr. Rushton growls, and demands how he had the audacity to break the +peace. The man mutters. Mr. Rushton observes that he will have him +placed in the stocks, and then sent to jail. The German groans. + +Suddenly Mr. Rushton feels a hand upon his arm. He turns round: it is +Redbud. + +"That is the man who sold me the necklace, sir!" she says, in a +hesitating voice. "I recognize him--it is the pedlar." + +Mr. Rushton starts, and catches the pedlar by the arm. + +"Come!" he commences. + +The pedlar rises without assistance, sullenly, prepared for the +stocks. + +"Where did you get this necklace? Speak!" + +The lawyer's eyes awe the man, and he stammers. Mr. Rushton grasps him +by the collar, and glares at him ferociously. + +"Where?" + +In five minutes he has made the pedlar speak--he bought the necklace +from the mother of the young man standing at the door. + +"From the Indian woman?" + +"Yes, from her." + +Mr. Rushton turns pale, and falls into a chair. + +Verty hastens to him. + +The lawyer rises, and gazes at him with pale lips, passes his hand +over his brow with nervous, trembling haste. He holds the necklace up +before Verty there, and says, in a husky voice-- + +"Where did your mother get this?" + +Verty gazes at the necklace, and shakes his head. + +"I don't know, sir--I don't know that it is her's--I think I have seen +it though--yes, yes, long, long ago--somewhere!" + +And the young hunter's head droops, thoughtfully--his dreamy eyes seem +to wander over other years. + +Then he raises his head and says, abruptly: + +"I had a strange thought, sir! I thought I saw myself--only I was a +little child--playing with that necklace somewhere in a garden--oh, +how strange! There were walks with box, and tulip beds, and in the +middle, a fountain--strange! I thought I saw Indians, too--and heard a +noise--why, I am dreaming!" + +The lawyer looks at Verty with wild eyes, which, slowly, very slowly, +fill with a strange light, which makes the surrounding personages keep +silent--so singular is this rapt expression. + +A thought is rising on the troubled and agitated mind of the lawyer, +like a moon soaring above the horizon. He trembles, and does not take +his eyes for a moment from the young man's face. + +"A fountain--Indians?" he mutters, almost inarticulately. + +"Yes, yes!" says Verty, with dreamy eyes, and crouching, so to speak, +Indian fashion, until his tangled chestnut curls half cover his +cheeks--"yes, yes!--there again!--why it is magic--there! I see it +all--I remember it! I must have seen it! Redbud!" he said, turning to +the young girl with a frightened air, "am I dreaming?" + +Redbud would have spoken. Mr. Rushton, with a sign, bade her be +silent. He looked at the young man with the same strange look, and +said in a low tone: + +"Must have seen what?" + +"Why, this!" said Verty, half extending his arm, and pointing toward +a far imaginary horizon, on which his dreamy eyes were fixed--"this! +don't you see it? My tribe! my Delawares--there in the woods! They +attack the house, and carry off the child in the garden playing with +the necklace. His nurse is killed--poor thing! her blood is on the +fountain! Now they go into the great woods with the child, and an +Indian woman takes him and will not let them kill him--he is so pretty +with his long curls like the sunshine: you might take him for a girl! +The Indian woman holds before him a bit of looking-glass, stolen from +the house! Look! they will have his life--oh!" + +And crouching, with an exclamation of terror, Verty shuddered. + +"Give me my rifle!" he cried; "they are coming there! Back!" + +And the young man rose erect, with flashing eyes. + +"The woman flies in the night," he continues, becoming calm again; +"they pursue her--she escapes with the boy--they come to a deserted +lodge--a lodge! a lodge! Why, it is our lodge in the hills! It's _ma +mere_! and I was that child! Am I mad?" + +And Verty raised his head, and looked round him with terror. + +His eye fell upon Mr. Rushton, who, breathing heavily, his looks +riveted to his face, his lips trembling, seemed to control some +overwhelming emotion by a powerful effort. + +The lawyer rose, and laid his hand upon Verty's shoulder--it trembled. + +"You are--dreaming--," he gasped. Suddenly, a brilliant flash darted +from his eye. With a movement, as rapid as thought, he tore the +clothes from the young man's left shoulder, so as to leave it bare to +the armpit. + +Exactly on the rounding of the shoulder, which was white, and wholly +free from the copper-tinge of the Indian blood, the company descried a +burn, apparently inflicted in infancy. + +The dazzled eyes of the lawyer almost closed--he fell into the old +leather chair, and sobbing, "my son! my son Arthur!" would have +fainted. + +He was revived promptly, and the wondering auditors gathered around +him, listening, while he spoke--the shaggy head, leaning on the +shoulder of Verty, who knelt at his feet, and looked up in his eyes +with joy and wonder. + +Yes! there could be no earthly doubt that the strange words uttered by +the boy, were so many broken and yet brilliant memories shining from +the dim past: that this was his son--the original of the portrait. The +now harsh and sombre lawyer, when a young and happy man, had married +a French lady, and lived on the border; and his little son had, after +the French fashion, received, for middle name, his mother's name, +Anne--and this had become his pet designation. His likeness had been +painted by a wandering artist, and soon after, a band of Delawares had +attacked the homestead and carried him away to the wilderness, and +there had remained little doubt, in his father's mind, that the +child had been treated as the Indians were accustomed to treat such +captives--mercilessly slain. The picture of him was the only treasure +left to the poor broken heart, when heaven had taken his wife from +him, soon afterwards--and in the gloom and misanthropy these tortures +inflicted upon him, this alone had been his light and solace. +Retaining for the boy his old pet name of Anne, he had cried in +presence of the picture, and been hardened in spite of all, against +Providence. In the blind convulsions of his passionate regret, he had +even uttered blasphemy, and scouted anything like trust in God; and +here now was that merciful God leading his child back to him, and +pardoning all his sin of unbelief, and enmity, and hatred; and saying +to him, in words of marvellous sweetness and goodness, "Poor soured +spirit, henceforth worship and trust in me!" + +Yes! his son Arthur, so long wept and mourned, had come to him +again--was there before him, kneeling at his feet! + +And with his arms around the boy, the rugged man bent down and wept, +and uttered in his heart a prayer for pardon. + +And we may be sure that the man's joy was not unshared by those +around--those kind, friendly eyes, which looked upon the father and +son, and rejoiced in their happiness. The very sunshine grew more +bright, it seemed; and when the picture was brought forth, and set +in his light, he shone full on it, and seemed to laugh and bless the +group with his kind light--even the little laughing child. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIX. + +CONCLUSION. + + +Our chronicle is ended, and we cannot detain the reader longer, +listening to those honest kindly voices, which have, perhaps, spoken +quite as much as he is willing to give ear to. Let us hope, that in +consideration of their kindness and simplicity, he may pardon +what appeared frivolous--seeing that humanity beat under all, and +kindness--like the gentle word of the poet--is always gain. + +The history is therefore done, and all ends here upon the bourne of +comedy. Redbud, with all her purity and tenderness--Verty, with his +forest instincts and simplicity--the lawyer, and poet, and the rest, +must go again into silence, from which they came. They are gone away +now, and their voices sound no more; their eyes beam no longer; all +their merry quips and sighs, their griefs and laughter, die away--the +comedy is ended. Do not think harshly of the poor writer, who regrets +to part with them--who feels that he must miss their silent company +in the long hours of the coming autumn nights. Poor puppets of the +imagination! some may say, what's all this mock regret? No, no! not +only of the imagination: of the heart as well! + +This said, all is said; but, perhaps, a few words of the after fate of +Verty, and the rest, may not be inappropriate. + +The two kind hearts which loved each other so--Verty and Redbud--were +married in due course of time: and Ralph and Fanny too. Miss Lavinia +and the poet of chancery--Mistress O'Calligan and the knight of the +shears--Miss Sallianna and the unfortunate Jinks--all these pairs, +ere long, were united. Mr. Jinks perfected his revenge upon Miss +Sallianna, as he thought, by marrying her--but, we believe, the result +of his revenge was misery. Mistress O'Calligan accepted the hand of +Mr. O'Brallaghan, upon hearing of this base desertion; and so, the +desires of all were accomplished--for weal or woe. + +Be sure, _ma mere_ lived, with Verty and Redbud all her days +thereafter; and our honest Verty often mounted Cloud, and went away, +on bright October mornings, to the hills, and visited the old hunting +lodge: and smoothing, thoughtfully, the ancient head of Longears, +pondered on that strange, wild dream of the far past, which slowly +developed itself under the hand of Him, the Author and Life, indeed, +who brought the light! + +And one day, standing there beside the old hunting lodge, with Redbud, +Verty, as we still would call him, pointed to the skies, and pressing, +with his encircling arm, the young form, said, simply: + +"How good and merciful He was--to give me all this happiness--and +you!" + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Last of the Foresters, by John Esten Cooke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 10560-8.txt or 10560-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/5/6/10560/ + +Produced by Dave Maddock, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/10560-8.zip b/old/10560-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de6b38f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10560-8.zip diff --git a/old/10560.txt b/old/10560.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cec80c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10560.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16817 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last of the Foresters, by John Esten Cooke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last of the Foresters + +Author: John Esten Cooke + +Release Date: January 2, 2004 [EBook #10560] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Dave Maddock, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS: + +OR, + +HUMORS ON THE BORDER; + +A STORY OF THE + +Old Virginia Frontier. + +BY + +JOHN ESTEN COOKE + +AUTHOR OF "THE VIRGINIA COMEDIANS," "LEATHER STALKING AND SILK," +"ELLIE," "THE YOUTH OF JEFFERSON," INC. + + +1856 + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + I.--At Apple Orchard + II.--Verty and his Companions + III.--Introduces a Legal Porcupine + IV.--How Verty thought, and played, and dreamed + V.--Winchester + VI.--In which Mr. Roundjacket flourishes his ruler + VII.--In which Mr. Roundjacket reads his great Poem + VIII.--How Verty shot a White Pigeon + IX.--Hawking without a Hawk + X.--Verty makes the acquaintance of Mr. Jinks + XI.--How Verty discovered in himself a great fondness for Apples + XII.--How Strephon talked with Chloe in an Arbor + XIII.--Verty expresses a desire to imitate Mr. Jinks + XIV.--The Thirteenth of October + XV.--The Pedlar and the Necklace + XVI.--Mr. Roundjacket makes himself agreeable + XVII.--Mr. Jinks at Home + XVIII.--How Miss Lavinia developed her Theories on Matrimony + XIX.--Only a few tears + XX.--How Miss Fanny slammed the door in Verty's face + XXI.--In which Redbud suppresses her feelings, and behaves + with decorum + XXII.--How Miss Sallianna fell in love with Verty + XXIII.--The Result + XXIV.--Of the effect of Verty's violin-playing upon Mr. Rushton + XXV.--A Young Gentleman just from William and Mary College + XXVI.--The Necklace + XXVII.--Philosophical + XXVIII.--Consequences of Miss Sallianna's passion for Verty + XXIX.--Interchange of Compliments + XXX.--What occurred at Bousch's Tavern + XXXI.--Mr. Jinks on Horseback going to take Revenge + XXXII.--An old Bible + XXXIII.--Fanny's views upon Heraldry + XXXIV.--How Miss Sallianna alluded to vipers, and fell into hysterics + XXXV.--How Miss Fanny made merry with the passion of Mr. Verty + XXXVI.--Ralph makes love to Miss Sallianna + XXXVII.--Verty states his private opinion of Miss Sallianna + XXXVIII.--How Longears showed his gallantry in Fanny's service. + XXXIX.--Up the Hill, and under the Chestnuts + XL.--Under the Greenwood Tree + XLI.--Use of Coats in a Storm + XLII.--How Mr. Jinks requested Ralph to hold him + XLIII.--Verty's heart goes away in a chariot + XLIV.--In which the History returns to Apple Orchard + XLV.--Hours in the October Woods + XLVI.--The Happy Autumn Fields + XLVII.--Days that are no more + XLVIII.--The Harvest Moon + XLIX.--Back to Winchester, where Editorial Iniquity is discoursed of + L.--How Verty discovered a Portrait, and what ensued + LI.--A Child and a Logician + LII.--How Mr. Jinks determined to spare Verty + LIII.--Projects of Revenge, involving Historical details + LIV.--Exploits of Fodder + LV.--Woman-traps laid by Mr. Jinks + LVI.--Takes Verty to Mr. Roundjacket's + LVII.--Contains an Extraordinary Disclosure + LVIII.--How Mr. Rushton proved that all men were selfish, himself + included + LIX.--The Portrait smiles + LX.--The Lodge in the Hills + LXI.--Mrs. O'Calligan's Wooers + LXII.--Verty Muses + LXIII.--How Verty and Miss Lavinia ran a-tilt at each other, and + who was overthrown + LXIV.--The Rose of Glengary + LXV.--Providence + LXVI.--The Hour and the Necklace + LXVII.--How St. Patrick encountered St. Michael, and what + ensued + LXVIII.--The End of the Chain + LXIX.--Conclusion + + + + +PREFACE + + +Perhaps this story scarcely needs a Preface, but the child of the +writer's invention comes to possess a place in his affections, and he +is reluctant to send it forth into the wide world, without something +in the nature of a letter of introduction, asking for it a kindly and +charitable reception. It would be unjust to apply to this volume the +tests which are brought to bear upon an elaborate romance. In his +narrative of the adventures of Verty and Redbud, the writer has not +endeavored to mount into the regions of tragedy, or chronicle the +details of bloodshed on the part of heroes--but rather, to find in a +picturesque land and period such traits of life and manners as are +calculated to afford innocent entertainment. Written under the +beautiful autumn skies of our beloved Virginia, the author would +ask for the work only a mind in unison with the mood of the +narrative--asking the reader to laugh, if he can, and, above all, to +carry with him, if possible, the beautiful autumn sunshine, and the +glories of the mountains. + +Of the fine old border town, in which many of the scenes of the story +are laid, much might be said, if it were here necessary, that Thomas +Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, and formerly half-owner of Virginia, +sleeps there--that Morgan, the Ney of the Revolution, after all his +battles, lies there, too, as though to show how nobles and commoners, +lords and frontiersmen, monarchists and republicans, are equal +in death--and that the last stones of old Fort Loudoun, built by +Lieutenant, afterwards General, Washington, crumble into dust there, +disappearing like a thousand other memorials of that noble period, and +the giants who illustrated it:--this, and much more, might be said of +Winchester, the old heart of the border, which felt every blow, and +poured out her blood freely in behalf of the frontier. But of the land +in which this old sentinel stands it is impossible to speak in terms +of adequate justice. No words can describe the loveliness of its fair +fields, and vainly has the present writer tried to catch the spirit of +those splendid pictures, which the valley unrolls in autumn days. The +morning splendors and magnificent sunsets--the noble river and blue +battlements, forever escape him. It is in the midst of these scenes +that he has endeavored to place a young hunter--a child of the +woods--and to show how his wild nature was impressed by the new life +and advancing civilization around him. The process of his mental +development is the chief aim of the book. + +Of the other personages of the story it is not necessary here to +speak--they will relieve the author of that trouble; yet he cannot +refrain from asking in advance a friendly consideration for Miss +Redbud. He trusts that her simplicity and innocence will gain for +her the hearts of all who admire those qualities; and that in +consideration of her liking for her friend Verty, that these friends +of her own will bestow a portion of their approbation upon the young +woodman: pity him when he incurs the displeasure of Mr., Jinks: +sympathise with him when he is overwhelmed by the reproaches of +Mr. Roundjacket, and rejoice with him when, in accordance with the +strictest rules of poetic justice, he is rewarded for his kindness and +honesty by the possession of the two things which he coveted the most +in the world. + +RICHMOND, _June_, 1856. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS. + + + "_If we shadows have offended, + Think but this, (and all is mended,) + That you have but slumbered here + While these visions did appear; + And this weak and idle theme + No more yielding than a dream, + Gentles, do not reprehend_." + + MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS, + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +AT APPLE ORCHARD. + + +On a bright October morning, when the last century was rapidly going +down hill, and all old things began to give way to the new, the sun +was shining in upon the breakfast room at Apple Orchard with a joyous +splendor, which, perhaps, he had never before displayed in tarrying at +that domain, or any other. + +But, about Apple Orchard, which we have introduced to the reader in +a manner somewhat abrupt and unceremonious. It was one of those old +wooden houses, which dot our valleys in Virginia almost at every +turn--contented with their absence from the gay flashing world of +cities, and raising proudly their moss-covered roofs between the +branches of wide spreading oaks, and haughty pines, and locusts, +burdening the air with perfume. Apple Orchard had about it an +indefinable air of moral happiness and domestic comfort. It seemed +full of memories, too; and you would have said that innumerable +weddings and christenings had taken place there, time out of +mind, leaving their influence on the old homestead, on its very +dormer-windows, and porch trellis-work, and clambering vines, and even +on the flags before the door, worn by the feet of children and slow +grandfathers. + +Within, everything was quite as old-fashioned; over the mantel-piece +a portrait, ruffled and powdered, hung; in the corner a huge clock +ticked; by the window stood a japanned cabinet; and more than one +china ornament, in deplorably grotesque taste, spoke of the olden +time. + +This is all we can say of the abode of Mr. Adam Summers, better known +as Squire Summers, except that we may add, that Apple Orchard was +situated not very far from Winchester, and thus looked upon the beauty +of that lovely valley which poor Virginia exiles sigh for, often, far +away from it in other lands. + +The sun shines for some time upon the well-ordered room, wherein the +breakfast-table is set forth, and in whose wide country fire-place +a handful of twigs dispel with the flame which wraps them the cool +bracing air of morning; then the door opens, and a lady of some thirty +autumns, with long raven curls and severe aspect, enters, sailing +in awful state, and heralded by music, from the rattling keys which +agitate themselves in the basket on her arm, drowning the rustle +of her dress. This is Miss Lavinia, the Squire's cousin, who has +continued to live with him since the death of his wife, some years +since. + +The severe lady is superintending the movements of the brisk negro +boy who attends to breakfast, when the Squire himself, a fat, rosy, +good-humored old gentleman, in short breeches and ruffles, makes his +appearance, rubbing his hands and laughing. + +Then, behind him, rosier than her father, dewy like the morning, and +angelic generally, behold our little heroine--Miss Redbud Summers. + +Redbud--she received this pretty name when she was a baby, and as +usually befalls Virginia maidens, never has been able to get rid of +it. Redbud is a lovely little creature, whom it is a delight to look +upon. She has a profusion of light, curling hair, a fine fresh, tender +complexion, deep, mild eyes, and a mouth of that innocent and artless +expression which characterizes childhood. She is about sixteen, +and has just emerged from short dresses, by particular request and +gracious permission from Miss Lavinia, who is major-domo and manager +in general. Redbud is, therefore, clad in the morning-dress of young +ladies of the period. Her sleeves are ornamented with fluttering +ribbons, and her hair is brushed back in the fashion now styled +_Pompadour_, but quite unpowdered. Her ears, for even heroines are +possessed of them, are weighed down by heavy golden ear-rings, and a +cloud of plain lace runs round her neck, and gently rubs her throat. +Pensiveness and laughter chase each other over her fresh little face, +like floating clouds;--she is a true child of the South. + +The Squire sits down in the large chair, in the corner of the +fire-place, and takes Miss Redbud on his knee. Then commences a +prattle on the part of the young lady, interrupted by much laughter +from the old gentleman; then the Squire swears profanely at indolent +Caesar, his spaniel, who, lying on the rug before the fire, stretches +his hind feet sleepily, and so makes an assault upon his master's +stockings; then breakfast is ready, and grace being devoutly said, +they all sit down, and do that justice to the meal which Virginians +never omit. Redbud is the soul of the room, however, and even insists +upon a romp with the old gentleman, as he goes forth to mount his +horse. + +The Squire thus disappears toward the barn. Miss Lavinia superintends +the household operation of "washing up the tea things," and Redbud +puts on her sun-bonnet, and goes to take a stroll. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +VERTY AND HIS COMPANIONS. + + +Redbud is sauntering over the sward, and listening to the wind in the +beautiful fallwoods, when, from those woods which stretch toward the +West, emerges a figure, which immediately rivets her attention. It +is a young man of about eighteen, mounted on a small, shaggy-coated +horse, and clad in a wild forest costume, which defines clearly the +outline of a person, slender, vigorous, and graceful. Over his brown +forehead and smiling face, droops a wide hat, of soft white fur, below +which, a mass of dark chestnut hair nearly covers his shoulders with +its exuberant and tangled curls. Verty--for this is Verty the son, or +adopted son of the old Indian woman, living in the pine hills to the +west--Verty carries in one hand a strange weapon, nothing less than a +long cedar bow, and a sheaf of arrows; in the other, which also holds +his rein, the antlers of a stag, huge and branching in all directions; +around him circle two noble deer-hounds. Verty strongly resembles an +amiable wild cat; and when he sees Redbud, smiles more than ever. + +The girl runs toward him, laughing gaily-- + +"Oh, Verty!" she says, "indeed I am very glad to see you. Where have +you been?" + +With which, she gives him her hand. + +"At home," says Verty, with his bright, but dreamy smile; "I've got +the antlers for the Squire, at last." + +And Verty throws the rein on the neck of his little horse, who stands +perfectly still, and leaps lightly to the ground. He stands for a +moment gazing at Redbud with his dreamy and smiling eyes, silent in +the sunshine like a shadow, then he pushes back his tangled chestnut +curls, and laughs. + +"I had a long chase," he says. + +"For the deer?" + +"Yes," says Verty, "and there are his horns. Oh, how bright you look." + +Redbud returns his smile. + +"I think I didn't live before I knew you; but that was long years +ago," says Verty, "a very long time ago." + +And leaning for a moment on his bow, the forest boy gazes with his +singular dreamy look on Redbud, who smiles. + +"Papa has gone out riding," she says, "but come, let's go in, and put +up the antlers." + +Verty assents readily to this, and speaking to his horse in some +outlandish tongue, leaves him standing there, and accompanies Redbud +toward the house. + +"What was that you said?" she asked; "I didn't understand." + +"Because you don't know Delaware," said Verty, smiling. + +"Was it Indian?" + +"Yes, indeed. I said to Cloud--that's his name you know--I told him to +_crouch_; that means, in hunter language, _keep still_." + +"How strange!" + +"Is it? But I like the English better, because you don't speak +Delaware, my own tongue; you speak English." + +"Oh, yes!" Redbud says. + +"I don't complain of your not speaking Delaware," says Verty, "for how +could you, unless _ma mere_ had taught you? She is the only Indian +about here." + +"You say _ma mere_--that means, 'my mother,' don't it?" + +"Yes; oh, she knows French, too. You know the Indian and the French--I +wonder who the French are!--used to live and fight together." + +"Did they?" + +Verty nods, and replies--"In the old days, a long, long time ago." + +Redbud looks down for a moment, as they walk on toward the house, +perusing the pebbles. Then she raises her head and says-- + +"How did you ever come to be the old Indian woman's son, Verty?" + +Verty's dreamy eyes fall from the sky, where a circling hawk had +attracted his attention, to Redbud's face. + +"Anan?" he says. + +Redbud greets this exhibition of inattention with a little pout, which +is far from unbecoming, and too frank to conceal anything, says, +smiling-- + +"You are not listening to me. Indeed, I think I am worth more +attention than that hawk." + +"Oh yes, indeed you are!" cries Verty; "but how can you keep a poor +Indian boy from his hunting? How that fellow darts now! Look what +bright claws he has! Hey, come a little nearer, and you are mine!" + +Verty laughs, and takes an arrow. + +Redbud lays her hand upon his arm. Verty looks at the hand, then at +her bright face, laughing. + +"What's the matter?" he says. + +"Don't kill the poor hawk." + +"Poor hawk? poor chickens!" says Verty, smiling. "Who could find fault +with me for killing him? Nothing to my deer! You ought to have seen +the chase, Redbud; how I ran him; how he doubled and turned; and when +I had him at bay, with his eyes glaring, his head drooping, how +I plunged my knife into his throat, and made the blood spout out +gurgling!" + +Verty smiled cheerfully at this recollection of past enjoyment, and +added, with his dreamy look-- + +"But I know what I like better even than hunting. I like to come and +see you, and learn my lessons, and listen to your talking and singing, +Redbud." + +By this time they had reached the house, and they saw Miss Lavinia +sitting at the window. Verty took off his white fur hat, and made the +lady a low bow, and said-- + +"How do you do, Miss Lavinia?" + +"Thank you, Verty," said that lady, solemnly, "very well. What have +you there?" + +"Some deer horns, ma'am." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, the Squire said he wanted them," Verty replied. + +"Hum," said Miss Lavinia, going on with her occupation of sewing. + +Verty made no reply to this latter observation, but busied himself +fixing up the antlers in the passage. Having arranged them to his +satisfaction, he stated to Redbud that he thought the Squire would +like them; and then preferred a request that she would get her Bible, +and read some to him. To this, Redbud, with a pleasant look in her +kind eyes, gave a delighted assent, and, running up stairs, soon +returned, and both having seated themselves, began reading aloud to +the boy. + +Miss Lavinia watched this proceeding with an elderly smile; but +Verty's presence in some way did not seem agreeable to her, + +Redbud closed the book, and said:-- + +"That is beautiful, isn't it, Verty?" + +"Yes," replied the boy, "and I would rather hear it than any other +book. I'm coming down every day to make you read for me." + +"Why, you can read," + +"So I can, but I like to _hear_ it," said Verty; "so I am coming." + +Redbud shook her head with a sorrowful expression. + +"I don't think I can," she said. "I'm so sorry!" + +"Don't think you can!" + +"No." + +"Not read the Bible to me?" Verty said, smiling. + +"I'm going away." + +Verty started. + +"Going away!--you going away? Oh no! Redbud, you mus'nt; for you know +I can't possibly get along without you, because I like you so much." + +"Hum!" said Miss Lavinia, who seemed to be growing more and more +dissatisfied with the interview. + +"I must go, though," Redbud said, sorrowfully, "I can't stay." + +"Go where?" asked the boy. "I'll follow you. Where are you going?" + +"Stop, Verty!" here interposed Miss Lavinia, with dignity. "It is not +a matter of importance where Redbud is going--and you must not follow +her, as you promise. You must not ask her where she is going." + +Verty gazed at Miss Lavinia with profound astonishment, and was about +to reply, when a voice was heard at the door, and all turned round. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +INTRODUCES A LEGAL PORCUPINE. + + +This was the voice of the Squire. It came just in time to create a +diversion. + +"Why, there are my antlers!" cried the good-humored Squire. "Look, +Rushton! did you ever see finer!" + +"Often," growled a voice in reply; and the Squire and his companion +entered. + +Mr. Rushton was a rough-looking gentleman of fifty or fifty-five, with +a grim expression about the compressed lips, and heavy grey eyebrows, +from beneath which rolled two dark piercing eyes. His hair was slowly +retreating, and thought or care had furrowed his broad brow from +temple to temple. He was clad with the utmost rudeness, and resembled +nothing so much as a half-civilized bear. + +He nodded curtly to Miss Lavinia, and took no notice whatever of +either Redbud or Verty. + +"Why, thank for the antlers, Verty!" said the good-humored Squire. +"I saw Cloud, and knew you were here, but I had no idea that you had +brought me the horns." + +And the Squire extended his hand to Verty, who took it with his old +dreamy smile. + +"I could have brought a common pair any day," he said, "but I promised +the best, and there they are. Oh, Squire!" said Verty, smiling, "what +a chase I had! and what a fight with him! He nearly had me under him +once, and the antlers you see there came near ploughing up my breast +and letting out my heart's blood! They just grazed--he tried to bite +me--but I had him by the horn with my left hand, and before a swallow +could flap his wings, my knife was in his throat!" + +As Verty spoke, his eyes became brighter, his lips more smiling, and +pushing his tangled curls back from his face, he bestowed his amiable +glances even upon Miss Lavinia. + +Mr. Rushton scowled. + +"What do you mean by saying this barbarous fight was pleasant?" he +asked. + +Verty smiled again:--he seemed to know Mr. Rushton well. + +"It is my nature to love it," he said, "just as white people love +books and papers." + +"What do you mean by white people?" growled Mr. Rushton, "you know +very well that you are white." + +"I?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir; no affectation: look in that mirror." + +Verty looked. + +"What do you see!" + +"An Indian!" said Verty, laughing, and raising his shaggy head. + +"You see nothing of the sort," said Mr. Rushton, with asperity; "you +see simply a white boy tanned--an Anglo-Saxon turned into mahogany by +wind and sun. There, sir! there," added Mr. Rushton, seeing Verty +was about to reply, "don't argue the question with me. I am sick of +arguing, and won't indulge you. Take this fine little lady here, and +go and make love to her--the Squire and myself have business." + +Then Mr. Rushton scowled upon the company generally, and pushed them +out of the room, so to speak, with his eyes; even Miss Lavinia was +forced to obey, and disappeared. + +Five minutes afterwards, Verty might have been seen taking his way +back sadly, on his little animal, toward the hills, while Redbud was +undergoing that most disagreeable of all ceremonies, a "lecture," +which lecture was delivered by Miss Lavinia, in her own private +apartment, with a solemnity, which caused Redbud to class herself with +the greatest criminals which the world had ever produced. Miss +Lavinia proved, conclusively, that all persons of the male sex were +uninterruptedly engaged in endeavoring to espouse all persons of the +female sex, and that the world, generally, was a vale of tears, of +scheming and deception. Having elevated and cheered Redbud's spirits, +by this profound philosophy, and further enlivened her by declaring +that she must leave Apple Orchard on the morrow, Miss Lavinia +descended. + +She entered the dining-room where the Squire and Mr. Rushton were +talking, and took her seat near the window. Mr. Rushton immediately +became dumb. + +Miss Lavinia said it was a fine day. + +Mr. Rushton growled. + +Miss Lavinia made one or two additional attempts to direct the +conversation on general topics; but the surly guest strangled her +incipient attempts with pitiless indifference. Finally, Miss Lavinia +sailed out of the room with stately dignity, and disappeared. + +Mr. Rushton looked after her, smiling grimly. + +"The fact is, Squire," he said, "that your cousin, Miss Lavinia, is a +true woman. Hang it, can't a man come and talk a little business with +a neighbor without being intruded upon? Outrageous!" + +The Squire seemed to regard his guest's surliness with as little +attention as Verty had displayed. + +"A true woman in other ways is she, Rushton," he said, smiling--"I +grant you she is a little severe and prim, and fond of taking her +dignified portion of every conversation; but she's a faithful and +high-toned woman. You have seen too much character in your Courts to +judge of the kernel from the husk." + +"The devil take the Courts! I'm sick of 'em," said Mr. Rushton, with +great fervor, "and as to _character_, there is no character anywhere, +or in anybody." Having enunciated which proposition, Mr. Rushton rose +to go. + +The Squire rose too, holding him by the button. + +"I'd like to argue that point with you," he said, laughing. "Come now, +tell me how--" + +"I won't--I refuse--I will not argue." + +"Stay to dinner, then, and I promise not to wrangle." + +"No--I never stay to dinner! A pretty figure my docket would cut, if I +staid to your dinners and discussions! You've got the deeds I came to +see you about; my business is done; I'm going back." + +"To that beautiful town of Winchester!" laughed the Squire, following +his grim guest out. + +"Abominable place!" growled Rushton; "and that Roundjacket is +positively growing insupportable. I believe that fellow has a mania on +the subject of marrying, and he runs me nearly crazy. Then, there's +his confounded poem, which he persists in reading to himself nearly +aloud." + +"His poem?" asked the Squire. + +"Yes, sir! his abominable, trashy, revolting poem, called--'The +Rise and Progress of the Certiorari.' The consequence of all which, +is--here's my horse; find the martingale, you black cub!--the +consequence is, that my office work is not done as it should be, and I +shall be compelled to get another clerk in addition to that villain, +Roundjacket." + +"Why not exchange with some one?" + +"How?" + +"Roundjacket going elsewhere--to Hall's, say." + +Mr. Rushton scowled. + +"Because he is no common clerk; would not live elsewhere, and because +I can't get along without him," he said. "Hang him, he's the greatest +pest in Christendom!" + +"I have heard of a young gentleman called Jinks," the Squire said, +with a sly laugh, "what say you to him for number two?" + +"Burn Jinks!" cried Mr. Rushton, "he's a jack-a-napes, and if he +comes within the reach of my cane, I'll break it over his rascally +shoulders! I'd rather have this Indian cub who has just left us." + +"That's all very well; but you can't get him." + +"Can't get him?" asked Rushton, grimly, as he got into the saddle. + +"He would never consent to coop himself up in Winchester. True, my +little Redbud, who is a great friend of his, has taught him to read, +and even to write in a measure, but he's a true Indian, whether such +by descent or not. He would die of the confinement. Remember what +I said about _character_ just now, and acknowledge the blunder you +committed when you took the position that there was no such thing." + +Rushton growled, and bent his brows on the laughing Squire. + +"I said," he replied, grimly, "that there was no character to be found +anywhere; and you may take it as you choose, you'll try and extract an +argument out of it either way. I don't mean to take part in it. As to +this cub of the woods, you say I couldn't make anything of him--see if +I don't! You have provoked me into the thing--defied me--and I accept +the challenge." + +"What! you will capture Verty, that roving bird?" + +"Yes; and make of this roving swallow another bird called a secretary. +I suppose you've read some natural history, and know there's such a +feathered thing." + +"Yes." + +"Very well," said Mr. Rushton, kicking his horse, and cramming his +cocked hat down on his forehead. "I'll show you how little you know of +human nature and character. I'll take this wild Indian boy, brought up +in the woods, and as free and careless as a deer, and in six months +I'll change him into a canting, crop-eared, whining pen-machine, with +quills behind his ears, and a back always bending humbly. I'll take +this honest barbarian and make a civilized and enlightened individual +out of him--that is to say, I'll change him into a rascal and a +hypocrite." + +With which misanthropic words Mr. Rushton nodded in a surly way to the +smiling Squire, and took his way down the road toward Winchester. + +"Well, well," said the old gentleman, looking after him, "Rushton +seems to be growing rougher than ever;--what a pity that so noble +a heart should have such a husk. His was a hard trial, however--we +should not be surprised. Rough-headed fellow! he thinks he can do +everything with that resolute will of his;--but the idea of chaining +to a writing-desk that wild boy, Verty!" + +And the old gentleman re-entered the house smiling cheerfully, as was +his wont. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HOW VERTY THOUGHT, AND PLAYED, AND DREAMED. + + +Verty took his weary way westward through the splendid autumn woods, +gazing with his dreamy Indian expression on the variegated leaves, +listening to the far cries of birds, and speaking at times to Longears +and Wolf, his two deer hounds. + +Then his head would droop--a dim smile would glimmer upon his lips, +and his long, curling hair would fall in disordered masses around +his burnt face, almost hiding it from view. At such moments Verty +dreamed--the real world had disappeared--perforce of that imagination +given him by heaven, he entered calm and happy into the boundless +universe of reverie and fancy. + +For a time he would go along thus, his arms hanging down, his head +bent upon his breast, his body swinging from side to side with every +movement of his shaggy little horse. Then he would rouse himself, and +perhaps fit an arrow to his bow, and aim at some bird, or some wild +turkey disappearing in the glades. Happy birds! the arrow never +left the string. Verty's hand would fall--the bow would drop at his +side--he would fix his eyes upon the autumn woods, and smile. + +He went on thus through the glades of the forest, over the hills, and +along the banks of little streams towards the west. The autumn reigned +in golden splendor--and not alone in gold: in purple, and azure and +crimson, with a wealth of slowly falling leaves which soon would pass +away, the poor perished glories of the fair golden year. The wild +geese flying South sent their faint carol from the clouds--the swamp +sparrow twittered, and the still copse was stirred by the silent croak +of some wandering wild turkey, or the far forest made most musical +with that sound which the master of Wharncliffe Lodge delighted in, +the "belling of the hart." + +Verty drank in these forest sounds, and the full glories of the +Autumn, rapturously--while he looked and listened, all his sadness +passed away, and his wild Indian nature made him happy there, in the +heart of the woods. Ever and anon, however, the events of the morning +would occur to him, sweeping over his upraised brow like the shadow of +a cloud, and dimming the brightness of his dreamy smiles. + +"How red the maples grow!" he said, "they are burning away--and the +dogwood! Poor oaks! I'm sorry for you; you are going, and I think +you look like kings--going? That was what Redbud said! She was going +away--going away!" + +And a sigh issued from Verty's lips, which betrayed the importance +he attached to Redbud's departure. Then his head drooped; and he +murmured--"going away!" + +Poor Verty! It does not require any very profound acuteness to divine +your condition. You are one more added to the list which Leander heads +in the old Grecian fable. Your speech betrays you. + +"Wild geese! They are early this year. Ho, there! good companions that +you are, come down and let me shoot at you. 'Crake! crake!' that is +all you say--away up there in the white clouds, laughing at me, I +suppose, and making fun of my bow. Listen! they are answering me from +the clouds! I wish I could fly up in the clouds! Travelling, as I +live, away off to the south!--leaving us to go and join their fellows. +They are wild birds; I've shot many of em'. Hark, Longears! see up +there! There they go--'crake! crake! crake!' I can see their long +necks stretched out toward the South--they are almost gone--going away +from me--like Redbud!" + +And Verty sighed piteously. + +"I wonder what makes my breast feel as if there was a weight upon it," +he said, "I'll ask _ma mere_." + +And putting spurs to Cloud, Verty scoured through the pine hills, and +in an hour drew near his home. + +It was one of those mountain huts which are frequently met with to +this day in our Virginian uplands. Embowered in pines, it rather +resembled, seen from a distance, the eyrie of some huge eagle, than +the abode of human beings, though eagles' eyries are not generally +roofed in, with poles and clapboards. + +The hut was very small, but not as low pitched as usual, and the place +had about it an air of wild comfort, which made it a pleasant object +in the otherwise unbroken landscape of pines, and huge rocks, and +browling streams which stretched around it. The door was approached +by a path which wound up the hill; and a small shed behind a clump of +firs was visible--apparently the residence of Cloud. + +Verty carefully attended to his horse, and then ascended the hill +toward the hut, from whose chimney a delicate smoke ascended. + +He was met at the door by an old Indian woman, who seemed to have +reached the age of three-score at least. She was clad in the ordinary +linsey of the period; and the long hair falling upon her shoulders was +scarcely touched with grey. She wore beads and other simple trinkets, +and the expression of her countenance was very calm and collected. + +Verty approached her with a bright smile, and taking her hand in his +own, placed it upon his head; then saying something in the Delaware +tongue, he entered the hut. + +Within, the mountain dwelling was as wild as without. From the brown +beams overhead were suspended strings of onions, tin vessels, bridles, +dried venison, and a thousand other things, mingled in inextricable +confusion. In the wide fire-place, which was supplied with stones for +and-irons, a portion of the lately slaughtered deer was broiling on +an impromptu and primitive species of gridiron, which would have +disgusted Soyer and astonished Vatel. This had caused the smoke; and +as Verty entered, the old woman had been turning the slices. Longears +and Wolf were already stretched before the fire, their eyes fixed upon +the venison with admiring attention and profound seriousness. + +In ten minutes the venison was done, and Verty and his mother ate in +silence--Verty not forgetting his dogs, who growled and contended for +the pieces, and then slept upon the rude pine floor. + +The boy then went to some shelves in the corner, just by the narrow +flight of steps which led to the old woman's room above, and taking +down a long Indian pipe, filled it with tobacco, and lit it. This +having been accomplished, he took his seat on a sort of wicker-work +bench, just outside of the door, and began to smoke with all the +gravity and seriousness of a Sachem of the Delawares. + +In a moment he felt the hand of the old woman on his shoulder. + +"Verty has been asleep and dreamed something," she said, calmly, in +the Delaware tongue. + +"No, _ma mere_, Verty has been wide awake," said the boy, in the same +language. + +"Then the winds have been talking to him." + +"Hum," said Verty. + +"Something is on my son's mind, and he has tied his heart up--_mal_!" + +"No, no," said Verty, "I assure you, _ma mere_, I'm quite happy." + +And having made this declaration, Verty stopped smoking and sighed. + +The old woman heard this sigh, slight as it was, with the quick ear of +the Indian, and was evidently troubled by it. + +"Has Verty seen the dove?" she said. + +The young man nodded with a smile. + +"Did they laugh?" + +"They laughed." + +"Did he come away singing?" + +Verty hesitated, then said, with an overshadowed brow-- + +"No, no, _ma mere_--I really believe he did not." + +The old woman pressed his hand between her own. + +"Speak," she said, "the dove is not sick?" + +Verty sighed. + +"No; but she is going away," he said, "and Miss Lavinia would not tell +me where. What a hawk she is--oh! she shall not harm my dove!" + +And Verty betook himself to gazing with shadowy eyes upon the sky. The +old Indian was silent for some time. Then she said-- + +"Trust in the Good Spirit, my son. We are not enough for ourselves. +We think we are strong and mighty, and can do everything; but a wind +blows us away. Listen, there is the wind in the pines, and look how it +is scattering the leaves. Men are like leaves--the breath of the Great +Spirit is the wind which scatters them." + +And the old Indian woman gazed with much affection on the boy. + +"What you say is worthy to be written on bark, mother," he said, +returning her affectionate glance; "the Great Spirit holds everything +in the hollow of his hand, and we are nothing. Going away!" added +Verty after a pause--"Going away!" + +And he sighed. + +"What did my son say?" asked the old woman. + +"Nothing, _ma mere. Ah le bon temp que ce triste jour_!" he murmured. + +The old woman's head drooped. + +"My son does not speak with a straight tongue," she said; "his words +are crooked." + +"_Non non_" said Verty, smiling; "but I am a little unwell, _ma mere_. +All the way coming along, I felt my breast weighed down--my heart was +oppressed. Look! even Longears knows I'm not the Verty of the old +time." + +Longears, who was standing at the door in a contemplative attitude, +fancied that his master called him, and, coming up, licked Verty's +hand affectionately. + +"Good Longears!" said. Verty, caressing him, "lie down at my feet." + +Longears obeyed with much dignity, and was soon basking in the +sunlight before the door. + +"Now, _ma mere_" Verty said, with his habitual smile, "we have been +calling for the clouds to come up, and shut out the sun; let us call +for the sunlight next. You know I am your Verty, and every day as I +grow, I get able to do more for you. I shall, some day, make a number +of pistoles--who knows?--and then think how much I could buy for you. +Good mother!--happy Verty!" + +And taking the old woman's hand, Verty kissed it. + +Then, leaning back, he reached through the window, and took down a +rude violin, and began to play an old air of the border, accompanying +the tune with a low chant, in the Indian fashion. + +The old woman looked at him for some moments with great affection, a +sad smile lighting up her aged features; then saying in a low tone, as +if to herself, "good Verty!" went into the house. + +Verty played for some time longer. Tired at last of his violin, he +laid it down, and with his eyes fixed upon the sand at his feet, began +to dream. As he mused, his large twilight eyes slowly drooped their +long lashes, which rested finally on the ruddy cheek. + +For some moments, Verty amused himself tracing figures on the sand +near Longears' nose, causing that intelligent animal to growl in his +sleep, and fight imaginary foes with his paws. + +From the window, the old Indian woman watched the young man with great +affection, her lips moving, and her eyes, at times, raised toward the +sky. + +Verty reclined more and more in his wicker seat; the scenes and images +of the day were mingled together in his mind, and became a dim wrack +of cloud; his tangled hair shaded his face from the sun; and, overcome +by weariness, the boy sank back, smiling even in his sleep. As he did +so, the long-stemmed Indian pipe fell from his hand across Longears' +nose, half covering the letters he had traced with it on the sand. + +Those letters were, in rude tracing: + +REDBUD. + +And to these Verty had added, with melancholy and listless smiles, the +further letters: + +GOING TO-- + +Unfortunately he was compelled to leave the remainder of the sentence +unwritten. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WINCHESTER. + + +Having followed the Indian boy from Apple Orchard to his lodge in the +wilderness, and shown how he passed many of his hours in the hills, it +is proper now that we should mount--in a figurative and metaphorical +sense--behind Mr. Rushton, and see whither that gentleman also bends +his steps. We shall thus arrive at the real theatre of our brief +history--we mean at the old town of Winchester, + +Every body knows, or ought to know, all about Winchester. It is not a +borough of yesterday, where the hum of commerce and the echo of the +pioneer's axe mingle together, as in many of our great western cities +of the Arabian Nights:--Winchester has recollections about it, and +holds to the past--to its Indian combats, and strange experiences +of clashing arms, and border revelries, and various scenes of wild +frontier life, which live for us now only in the chronicles;--to +its memories of Colonel Washington, the noble young soldier, who +afterwards became, as we all have heard, so distinguished upon a +larger field;--to Thomas Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cameron, who came +there often when the deer and the wolves of his vast possessions +would permit him--and to Daniel Morgan, who emptied many fair cups on +Loudoun-street, and one day passed, with trumpets sounding, going +to Quebec; again on his way to debate questions of importance with +Tarleton, at the Cowpens--lastly, to crush the Tory rising on Lost +River, about the time when "it pleased heaven so to order things, +that the large army of Cornwallis should be entrapped and captured at +Yorktown, in Virginia," as the chronicles inform us. All these men of +the past has Winchester looked upon, and many more--on strange, wild +pictures, and on many histories. For you walk on history there and +drink the chronicle:--Washington's old fort is crumbling, but still +visible;--Morgan, the strong soldier, sleeps there, after all his +storms;--and grim, eccentric Fairfax lies where he fell, on hearing of +the Yorktown ending. + +When we enter the town with Mr. Rushton, these men are elsewhere, it +is true; but none the less present. They are there forever. + +The lawyer's office was on Loudoun-street, and cantering briskly along +the rough highway past the fort, he soon reached the rack before his +door, and dismounted. The rack was crooked and quailed--the house was +old and dingy--the very knocker on the door frowned grimly at the +wayfarer who paused before it. One would have said that Mr. Rushton's +manners, house, and general surrounding, would have repelled the +community, and made him a thousand enemies, so grim were they. Not at +all. No lawyer in the town was nearly so popular--none had as much +business of importance entrusted to them. It had happened in his +case as in a thousand others, which every one's experience must have +furnished. His neighbors had discovered that his rude and surly +manners concealed a powerful intellect and an excellent heart--and +even this rudeness had grown interesting from the cynical dry humor +not unfrequently mingled with it. + +A huge table, littered with old dingy volumes, and with dusty rolls +of papers tied with red tape--a tall desk, with a faded and +ink-bespattered covering of brown cloth--a lofty set of "pigeon +holes," nearly filled with documents of every description--and a set +of chairs and stools in every state of dilapidation:--there was the +ante-room of Joseph Rushton, Esq., Attorney-at-Law and Solicitor in +Chancery. + +No window panes ever had been seen so dirty as those which graced the +windows--no rag-carpet so nearly resolved into its component elements, +had ever decorated human dwelling--and perhaps no legal den, from +the commencement of the world to that time, had ever diffused so +unmistakeable an odor of parchment, law-calf, and ancient dust! + +The apartment within the first was much smaller, and here Mr. Rushton +held his more confidential interviews. Few persons entered it, +however; and even Roundjacket would tap at the door before entering, +and generally content himself with thrusting his head through the +opening, and then retiring. Such was the lawyer's office. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN WHICH MR. ROUNDJACKET FLOURISHES HIS RULER. + + +Roundjacket was Mr. Rushton's clerk--his "ancient clerk"--though the +gentleman was not old. The reader has heard the lawyer say as much. +Behold Mr. Roundjacket now, with his short, crisp hair, his cynical, +yet authoritative face, his tight pantaloons, and his spotless shirt +bosom--seated on his tall stool, and gesticulating persuasively. He +brandishes a ruler in his right hand, his left holds a bundle of +manuscript; he recites. + +Mr. Rushton's entrance does not attract his attention; he continues to +brandish his ruler and to repeat his poem. + +Mr. Rushton bestows an irate kick upon the leg of the stool. + +"Hey!" says Roundjacket, turning his head. + +"You are very busy, I see," replies Mr. Rushton, with his cynical +smile, "don't let me interrupt you. No doubt perusing that great poem +of yours, on the 'Certiorari.'" + +"Yes," says Mr. Roundjacket, running his fingers through his hair, +and causing it to stand erect, "I pride myself on this passage. Just +listen"-- + +"I'd see your poem sunk first; yes, sir! burned--exterminated. I would +see it in Chancery!" cried the lawyer, in the height of his wrath. + +Mr. Roundjacket's hand fell. + +"No--no!" he said, with a reproachful expression, "you wouldn't be so +cruel, Judge!" + +"I would!" said Mr. Rushton, with a snap. + +"In Chancery?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Mr. Rushton." + +"Sir?" + +"Are you in earnest?" + +"I am, sir." + +"You distinctly state that you would see my poem consigned to--" + +"Chancery, sir." + +"Before you would listen to it?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +Roundjacket gazed for a moment at the lawyer in a way which expressed +volumes. Then slowly rubbing his nose: + +"Well, sir, you are more unchristian than I supposed--but go on! Some +day you'll write a poem, and I'll handle it without gloves. Don't +expect any mercy." + +"When I write any of your versified stuff, called poetry, I give you +leave to handle it in any way you choose," said the Judge, as we may +call him, following the example of Mr. Roundjacket. "Poetry is a thing +for school-boys and bread and butter Misses, who fancy themselves in +love--not for men!" + +Roundjacket groaned. + +"There you are," he said, "with your heretical doctrines--doctrines +which are astonishing in a man of your sense. You prefer law to +poetry--divine poetry!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler. + +"Roundjacket," said Mr. Rushton. + +"Judge?" + +"Don't be a ninny." + +"No danger. I'm turning into a bear from association with you." + +"A bear, sir?" + +"Yes sir--a bear, sir!" + +"Do you consider me a bear, do you?" + +"An unmitigated grizzly bear, sir, of the most ferocious and +uncivilized description," replied Roundjacket, with great candor. + +"Very well, sir," replied Mr. Rushton, who seemed to relish these +pleasantries of Mr. Roundjacket--"very well, sir, turn into a bear +as much as you choose; but, for heaven sake, don't become a poetical +bear." + +"There it is again!" + +"What, sir?" + +"You are finding fault with the harmless amusement of my leisure +hours. It's not very interesting here, if your Honor would please to +remember. I have no society--none, sir. What can I do but compose?" + +"You want company?" + +"I want a wife, sir; I acknowledge it freely." + +Mr. Rushton smiled grimly. + +"Why don't you get one, then?" he said; "but this is not what I meant. +I'm going to give you a companion." + +"A companion?" + +"An assistant, sir." + +"Very well," said Mr. Roundjacket, "I shall then have more time to +devote to my epic." + +"Epic, the devil! You'll be obliged to do more than ever." + +"More?" + +"Yes--you will have to teach the new comer office duty." + +"Who is he?" + +"An Indian." + +"What?" + +"The Indian boy Verty--you have seen him, I know." + +Mr. Roundjacket uttered a prolonged whistle. + +"There!" cried Mr. Rushton--"you are incredulous, like everybody!" + +"Yes, I am!" + +"You doubt my ability to capture him?" + +"Precisely." + +"Well, sir! we'll see. I have never yet given up what I have once +undertaken. Smile as you please, you moon-struck poet; and if you +want an incident to put in your trashy law-epic, new nib your pen to +introduce a wild Indian. Stop! I'm tired talking! Don't answer me. If +any one calls, say I'm gone away, or dead, or anything. Get that old +desk ready for the Indian. He will be here on Monday." + +And Mr. Rushton passed into his sanctum, and slammed the door after +him. + +On the next day the lawyer set out toward the pine hills. On the +road he met Verty strolling along disconsolately. A few words passed +between them, and they continued their way in company toward the old +Indian woman's hut. Mr. Rushton returned to Winchester at twilight. + +On Monday morning Verty rode into the town, and dismounted at the door +of the law office. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +IN WHICH ROUNDJACKET READS HIS GREAT POEM. + + +Three days after the events which we have just related, or rather +after the introduction of the reader to the three localities with +which our brief history will concern itself, Mr. Roundjacket was +sitting on his high stool in one corner of the office, preparing the +papers in a friendly suit in Chancery. + +It was about ten o'clock in the morning, and Verty, who rode home +every evening, had just come in and had taken his seat at the desk +in the corner appropriated to him, beneath the small dingy window, +looking out upon the yard. Longears was stretched at his feet. + +Verty's face was more dreamy and thoughtful than ever. The dim smile +still dwelt upon his lips, and though his countenance had as much of +the forest Indian character as ever, there was a languor about the +drooping eyelids, with their long lashes, and a stoop in the usually +erect neck, which betrayed the existence in the boy's mind of some +ever-present sadness. His costume was just what it had always +been--moccasins, deerskin leggings, a shaggy forest _paletot_, and +fringed leather gauntlets, which now lay by him near his white fur +hat. He had not changed by becoming a lawyer's clerk; but, on the +contrary, grown more wild, apparently from the very contrast between +his forest appearance and the dingy office. + +At times Verty would stretch out his hand, and, taking his cedar bow +from a chair, bend it thoughtfully, and utter the low Indian murmur, +which has been represented by the letters, "_ough_" so unsuccessfully; +then he would allow the weapon to slide from his nerveless hand--his +head would droop--the dim dreamy smile would light up his features +for an instant, and he would lean upon the desk and ponder--his +countenance half enveloped by the long tangled chestnut hair which +still flowed upon his shoulders in wild luxuriance. + +Tired of thinking at last, Verty sighed, and took up his pen. For some +moments it glided slowly over the law parchment, and the contortions +of Verty's face betrayed the terrible effort necessary for him to +make in copying. Then his eyes no longer sought the paper to be +transcribed--his face lit up for a moment, and his pen moved faster. +Finally, he rose erect, and surveyed the sheet, which he had been +writing upon, with great interest. + +Just beneath the words, "messuages, tenements, water courses, and all +that doth thereunto pertain," Verty had made a charming sketch of a +wild-fowl, with expanded wings, falling from the empyrean, with an +arrow through his breast. + +For some moments, the drawing afforded Verty much gratification: it +finally, however, lost its interest, and the boy leaned his head upon +his hand, and gazed through the window upon the waving trees which +overshadowed the rear of the building. + +Then his eyes slowly drooped--the dusky lashes moved tremulously--the +head declined--and in five minutes Verty was asleep, resting his +forehead on his folded arms. + +The office was disturbed, for the next quarter of an hour, by no sound +but the rapid scratching of Mr. Roundjacket's pen, which glided over +the paper at a tremendous rate, and did terrible execution among +plaintiffs, executors, administrators, and assigns. + +At the end of that time, Mr. Roundjacket raised his head, uttered a +prolonged whistle, and, wiping his pen upon the sleeve of his old +office coat, which bore a striking resemblance to the gaberdine of a +beggar, addressed himself to speech-- + +"Now, that was not wanted till to-morrow evening," he observed, +confidentially, to the pigeon-holes; "but, to-morrow evening, I may be +paying my addresses to some angelic lady, or be engaged upon my epic. +I have done well; it is true philosophy to 'make assurance doubly +sure, and to take a bond of fate.' Now for a revisal of that last +stanza; and, I think, I'll read it aloud to that young cub, as Rushton +calls him. No doubt his forest character, primitive and poetical, will +cause him to appreciate its beauties. Hallo!" + +Verty replied by a snore. + +"What, asleep!" cried Mr. Roundjacket. "Now, you young sluggard! do +you mean to say that the atmosphere of this mansion, this temple of +Chancery, is not enlivening, sprightly, and anti-slumbrous? Ho, there! +do you presume to fall asleep over that beautiful and entertaining +conveyance, you young savage! Wake up!" + +And Mr. Roundjacket hurled his ruler at Verty's desk, with the +accuracy of an experienced hand. The ruler came down with a crash, and +aroused the sleeper. Longears also started erect, looked around, and +then laid down again. + +"Ah!" murmured Verty, who woke like a bird upon the boughs, "what was +that, _ma mere_?" + +"There's his outlandish lingo--Delaware or Shawnee, I have no doubt!" +said Mr. Roundjacket. + +Verty rose erect. + +"Was I asleep? he said, smiling. + +"I think you were." + +"This place makes me go to sleep," said the boy. "How dull it is!" + +"Dull! do you call this office dull? No, sir, as long as I am here +this place is sprightly and even poetical." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Which means, in Iroquois or some barbarous language, that you don't +understand," replied Mr. Roundjacket. "Listen, then, young man, I mean +that the divine spirit of poesy dwells here--that nothing, therefore, +is dull or wearisome about this mansion--that all is lively and +inspiring. Trust me, my dear young friend, it was copying that +miserable deed which put you to sleep, and I can easily understand how +that happened. The said indenture was written by the within." + +And Mr. Roundjacket pointed toward the sanctum of Mr. Rushton. + +Verty only smiled. + +Mr. Roundjacket descended from his stool, and cast his eyes upon the +paper. + +"What!" he cried, "you made that picture! How, sir Upon my word, young +man, you are in a bad way. The youngster who stops to make designs +upon a copy of a deed in a law office, is on the high-road to the +gallows. It is an enormity, sir--horrible! dreadful!" + +"What the devil are you shouting about there!" cried the voice of Mr. +Rushton, angrily. And opening the door between the two rooms, the +shaggy-headed gentleman appeared upon the threshold. + +Roundjacket turned over the sheet of paper upon which Verty's design +had been made; and then turned to reply to the words addressed to him. + +"I am using my privilege to correct this youngster," he replied, with +a flourish of his ruler, apparently designed to impress the shaggy +head with the idea that he, Mr. Roundjacket, would not permit any +infringement of his rights and privileges. + +"You are, are you?" said Mr. Rushton. + +"Yes, sir," replied the clerk. + +"And what do you find to correct in Mr. Verty?" + +"Many things." + +"Specify." + +"With pleasure." + +And Mr. Roundjacket, inserting one thumb into the pocket of his long +waistcoat, pointed with the ruler to Verty's costume. + +"Do you call that a proper dress for a lawyer's clerk?" he said. "Is +the profession to be disgraced by the entrance of a bear, a savage, a +wild boy of the woods, who resembles a catamountain? Answer that, sir. +Look at those leggins!" + +And Mr. Roundjacket indicated the garments which reached to Verty's +knees, with the end of his ruler. + +"Well," said Mr. Rush ton, smiling, "I should think you might have +them changed without troubling me, Verty." + +The boy raised his head with a smile. + +"How would you like a new suit of clothes?" + +"I don't want any, sir." + +"But these won't do." + +"Why not, sir?" + +"They're too primitive, you cub. Clothes, sir, are the essence of +human society, and a man is known by his shell. If you wish to reap +those numerous advantages for your mother, you must be re-habited." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I mean you must dress like a Christian--get new clothes." + +Verty smiled. + +"You are willing, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well--that does honor to your filial affection, you handsome +savage. Roundjacket, take this young man up to O'Brallaghan's +to-morrow, and have his measure taken." + +"With pleasure," said Mr. Roundjacket, who had evidently taken a great +liking to Verty; "what sort of clothes?" + +Mr. Rushton looked at the subject of the conversation. Verty was +gazing through the window and dreaming. A smile passed over the grim +features, and a sort of sigh issued from the compressed lips of the +lawyer. + +"Three suits, Roundjacket," said Mr. Rushton; "one common, another +rich, another as elegant as O'Brallaghan can make. I really believe +this boy is going to amuse me." + +"A most remarkable youth," observed the clerk, "and draws sketches +with astonishing ease." + +"Ah?" + +"Don't you, young man?" + +Verty turned round, and interrogated Mr. Roundjacket with a look. He +had evidently not heard the question. + +"There, you are dreaming again, sir," said Mr. Rushton; "this will +never do--come, write away. The idleness of this world is revolting!" +he growled, returning to his sanctum, and closing the door with a +bang. + +Roundjacket pointed after him with his ruler. + +"An odd fish, young man," he said, shaking his head; "take care not to +make him your model. If you want a proper model to imitate, you need +not go far. Modesty, which is my weakness, prevents my saying more." + +And Mr. Roundjacket cleared his throat, and looked dignified. + +"It was my purpose, before this interruption," he said, after a pause +of some moments, "to read to you some portions of a work which will, +probably, be spoken of extensively by the world." + +And Mr. Roundjacket paused. Verty also was silent. + +"All countries," said the poetical gentleman, with a preparatory +flourish of his ruler, "have possessed localities famous in the +history of literature:--as Athens, in Greece; the Island of Scio, +where Homer first saw the light; and Stratford, where Shakspeare +appeared. Now, sir, reasoning from analogy, which is the finest +possible way of reasoning, we must conclude that Virginia has such a +locality, and I leave you to decide the probable situation of it. It +cannot be Williamsburg, the seat of government, for that place is +given up to the vanity of life--to balls and horseraces, meetings of +the House of Burgesses, and other varieties. Williamsburg, sir, cannot +become famous--it is too near the sea. Then there is the thriving +village of Richmond, to which they speak of moving the seat of +government. I suppose, sir, that no one asserts that Richmond is ever +likely to produce any remarkable men. Mark me, sir, that place +will never be famous--it is too far from the sea. Now, what is +the irresistible conclusion we arrive at from a view of these +incontestable facts," observed Mr. Roundjacket, endeavoring to catch +Verty's wandering eye; "why, my young friend, that Winchester here is +to be the celebrated locality--that the great poet of Virginia will +here arise! Is it not plain, sir?" + +"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, and roused from his abstraction by the +silence. + +"Ah, you are not very well accustomed to these trains of reasoning, +I perceive, sir," said Mr. Roundjacket; "but you will be able to +comprehend my meaning. I designed only to say, that this town will +probably be mentioned in many books, hereafter, as the residence of +some distinguished man. Of course, I do not express any opinion upon +that point--_I_ don't know who it will be; but I presume he will +follow the poetical calling from the vicinity of the mountains. Those +beautiful mountains will make his cheeks flush, sir, at all times. The +Shenandoah, more noble than even the Mississippi, will inspire him, +and possibly he will turn his attention to humor--possibly, sir, the +proceedings in courts of law may attract his attention--justification, +and cognovit, and certiorari. Let me read you a small portion of +a poem written upon those subjects by a very humble poet--are you +listening, Mr. Verty?" + +Verty aroused himself, and smiled upon Mr. Roundjacket--a proceeding +which seemed to be eminently satisfactory to that gentleman. + +With many preparatory, "hems," therefore, the poet commenced reading. + +At the risk of bringing down upon our heads the anathema of +antiquaries in general, we are compelled to forbear from making any +quotations from the Roundjacket Iliad. It was not quite equal to +Homer, and inferior, in many points, to both the Aeniad and the +Dunciad;--but not on that account did the poet undervalue it. He read +with that deep appreciation which authors in all ages have brought to +bear upon their own productions. + +Verty preserved a profound and respectful silence, which flattered the +poet hugely. He recited with new energy and pleasure--becoming, at +times, so enthusiastic, indeed, that a smothered growl from the +adjoining apartment bore soothing testimony to his eloquence. + +Mr. Roundjacket wound up with a gigantic figure, in which the muse of +Chancery was represented as mounted upon a golden car, and dispensing +from her outstretched hands all sorts of fruits, and flowers, and +blessings on humanity;--and having thus brought his noble poem to a +noble termination, the poet, modestly smiling, and ready for applause, +rolled up his manuscript, and raised his eyes to the countenance of +his silent and admiring listener--that listener who had been so rapt +in the glowing images and sonorous couplets, that he had not uttered +so much as a word. + +Verty was asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HOW VERTY SHOT A WHITE PIGEON. + + +Mr. Roundjacket's illusions were all dissipated--the attentive +listener was a sleeping listener--his poem, dreadful to think of, had +absolutely lulled Verty to slumber. + +We may understand the mortification of the great writer; the +_irritable genus_ had in him no unfit representative, thus far at +least. He caught Verty by the shoulder and shook him. + +"Wake up, you young savage!" he cried, "sleeping when I am reading to +you; rouse! rouse! or by the immortal gods I'll commit an assault and +battery upon your barbarous person! Savage! barbarian! monster!" + +Suddenly Mr. Roundjacket heard a hoarse growl, and something like +a row of glittering steel knives attracted his attention in the +direction of his legs. This phenomenon was caused by the opening of +Longears' huge mouth--that intelligent animal having espoused the +cause of his master, so rudely assaulted, and prepared for instant +battle. + +Fortunately, Verty woke up before the combat commenced; and seeing the +hound standing in a threatening attitude, he ordered him to lie down. +Longears obeyed with great alacrity, and was soon dozing again. + +Then commenced, on the part of Mr. Roundjacket, an eloquent and +animated remonstrance with Verty on the impropriety of that proceeding +which he had just been guilty of. It was unfeeling, and barbarous, and +unheard of, the poet observed, and but one thing induced him to pardon +it--the wild bringing up of the young man, which naturally rendered +him incapable of appreciating a great work of art. + +Verty explained that he had been hunting throughout the preceding +night--setting traps, and tramping over hill and through dale--and +thus he had been overcome by drowsiness. He smiled with great good +nature upon Mr. Roundjacket, as he uttered this simple excuse, and +so winning was the careless sunshine of his countenance, that honest +Roundjacket, uttering an expiring grumble, declared that nothing was +more natural than his drowsiness. In future, he said, he would select +those seasons when his--Verty's--senses were bright and wide-awake; +and he begged the young man not to fear a repetition of what he might +have heard--there were fifteen more cantos, all of which he would +read, slowly and carefully explaining, as he went along, any +difficulties. + +Verty received this announcement with great good humor, and then began +tracing over his paper, listlessly, the word "Redbud." That word had +been the key-note of his mind throughout the morning--that was the +real secret of his abstraction. + +Miss Lavinia had informed him on that morning, when she had dismissed +him from Apple Orchard, that Redbud was going away for the purpose of +being educated; and that he, Verty, would act very incorrectly if he +asked any one whither Redbud was going. Thus the boy had been rendered +gloomy and sad--he had wandered about Apple Orchard, never daring to +ask whither the young girl had gone--and so, in one of his wanderings, +had encountered Mr. Rushton, who indeed was seeking him. He had easily +yielded to the representations of that gentleman, when he assured him +that he ought to apply his mind to something in order to provide for +all the wants of his Indian mother--and this scheme was all the more +attractive, as the neighborhood of Apple Orchard, to which his steps +ever wandered, occasioned him more sadness than he had ever felt +before. Redbud was gone--why should he go near the place again? The +sunshine had left it--he had better seek new scenes, and try what +effect they would have. + +Therefore was it that Verty had become a lawyer's clerk; and it was +the recollection of these causes of sadness which had made the boy so +dull and languid. + +Without Redbud, everything seemed dim to him; and he could not ask +whither she had flown. + +This was his sad predicament. + +After receiving the assurance of Roundjacket's pardon, Verty, as we +have said, began scrawling over the copy of the deed he was making the +name of Redbud. This persevering and thoughtful occupation at last +attracted the attention of his companion. + +"Redbud!" asked the poet, "who is Redbud, my young friend? I should +conjecture that she was a young lady, from the name.--Stay, is there +not a Miss Redbud Summers, daughter of the Squire of said name?" + +Verty nodded. + +"A friend of yours?" + +"Yes," sighed Verty. + +Mr. Roundjacket smiled. + +"Perhaps you are making love to her?" he said. + +"Making love?" asked Verty, "what is that?" + +"How!" cried the poet, "you don't mean to say you are ignorant of the +nature of that divine sentiment which elevates and ennobles in so +remarkable a degree--hem!--all humanity!" + +"Anan!" said Verty, with an inquiring look. + +Mr. Roundjacket returned this look for some moments, preserving a +profound silence. + +"My young friend," he said at last, "how old are you?" + +"Eighteen, _ma mere_ says." + +"Who's _mommer_, pray?" + +"Mother." + +"Oh," said the poet, with some confusion, "the fact is, your +pronunciation--but don't let us discuss that. I was going to say, that +it is impossible for you to have reached your present period of life +without making love to some lady." + +Verty looked bewildered, but smiled. + +Mr. Roundjacket was astounded at finding such savage ignorance in his +companion;--he revolved in his mind the means of enlightening Verty, +in vain. + +At last he placed the end of his ruler upon his waistcoat, and said, +mysteriously: + +"Do you see me?" + +"Yes," replied Verty. + +"Well, sir, I made love to a young woman when I was six." + +Verty looked interested. + +"At twelve I had already had my heart broken three times," continued +Mr. Roundjacket; "and now, sir, I make it a point to pay my +addresses--yes, to proceed to the last word, the 'will you,' +namely,--once, at least, a year." + +Verty replied that this was very kind in Mr. Roundjacket, and then +rising, stretched himself, and took up his bow. + +"I feel very tired," he said, "I wish I was in the woods." + +And Verty turned his back on Mr. Roundjacket, strolled to the door, +and leaning on his bow, gazed languidly out upon the busy street. + +He presented a strange appearance there, at the door of the dingy +office, in the middle of the busy and thriving town. He seemed to have +been translated thither, from the far forest wilds, by the wave of +some magician's wand, so little did he appear to be a portion of the +scene. Verty looked even wilder than ever, from the contrast, and +his long bow, and rugged dress, and drooping hat of fur, would have +induced the passers-by to take him for an Indian, but for the curling +hair and the un-Indian face. + +Verty gazed up into the sky and mused--the full sunlight of the bright +October morning falling in a flood upon his wild accoutrements. + +By gazing at the blue heavens, over which passed white clouds, +ever-changing and of rare loveliness, the forest boy forgot the +uncongenial scenes around him, the reality;--and passing perforce of +his imagination into the bright realm of cloud-land, was again on the +hills, breathing the pure air, and following the deer. + +Verty had always loved the clouds; he had dreamed of Redbud often, +while gazing on them; and now he smiled, and felt brighter as he +looked. + +His forest instincts returned, and, bending his bow, he carelessly +fitted an arrow upon the leather string. What should he shoot at? + +There was a very handsome fish upon a neighboring belfry, which was +veering in the wind; and this glittering object seemed to Verty an +excellent mark. As he was about to take aim, however, his quick eye +caught sight of a far speck in the blue sky; and he lowered his bow +again. + +Placing one hand above his eyes, he raised his head, and fixed his +penetrating gaze upon the white speck, which rapidly increased in size +as it drew nearer. It was a bird with white wings, clearly defined +against the azure. + +Verty selected his best arrow, and placing it on the string, waited +until the air-sailer came within striking distance. Then drawing the +arrow to its head, he let it fly at the bird, whose ruffled breast +presented an excellent mark. + +The slender shaft ascended like a flash of light into the air--struck +the bird in full flight; and, tumbling headlong, the fowl fell toward +Verty, who, with hair thrown back, and outstretched arms, ran to catch +it. + +It was a white pigeon; the sharp pointed arrow had penetrated and +lodged in one of its wings, and it had paused in its onward career, +like a bark whose slender mast, overladen with canvas, snaps in a +sudden gust. + +Verty caught the pigeon, and drew the arrow from its wing, which was +all stained with blood. + +"Oh, what large eyes you have!" he said, smiling; "you're a handsome +pigeon. I will not kill you. I will take you home and cure your wing, +and then, if ever I again see Redbud, I will give you to her, my +pretty bird." + +Poor Verty sighed, and his eyes drooped as he thought of the girl. + +Suddenly, however, a small scroll of yellow paper encircling the +pigeon's neck, and concealed before by the ruffled plumage, caught his +eye. + +"Paper! and writing on it!" he said; "why, this is somebody's +pet-pigeon I have shot!" + +And tearing off the scroll, Verty read these words, written in a +delicate, running-hand: + +"_I am Miss Redbud's pigeon; and Fanny gave me to her_!" Verty +remained for a moment motionless--his eyes expanded till they +resembled two rising moons;--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon!" Then Redbud +was somewhere in the neighborhood of the town--she had not gone far +out into the wide, unknown world--this pigeon might direct him;--Verty +found a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind, like so many deer +in a herd, jostling each other, and entangling their horns. + +Surely, it would not be wrong for him to embrace this chance of +discovering Redbud's residence--a chance which seemed to have been +afforded him by some unseen power. Why should he not keep the bird +until its wing was healed, and then observe the direction of its +flight? Why not thus find the abode of one in whose society so much of +his happiness consisted? Was there any thing wrong in it--would any +one blame him? + +These were the questions which Verty asked himself, standing in the +October sunshine, and holding the wounded pigeon to his breast. And +the conclusion was ere long reached. He decided, to his own perfect +satisfaction, that he had the full right to do as he wished; and then +he re-entered the office. + +Mr. Roundjacket was busy at some more law papers, and did not observe +the object which he carried. Verty sat down at his desk; betook +himself to copying, having rejected the sketch-ornamented sheet; and +by evening had done a very fair day's work. + +Then he put on his hat, placed the wounded pigeon in his bosom, and, +mounting his horse, set forward toward the hills. + +"In three days," he said, "you will be cured, pretty pigeon, and then +I will let you go; and it will be hard if I don't follow your flight, +and find out where your mistress lives. Oh, me! I must see Redbud--I +can't tell why, but I know I must see her!" + +And Verty smiled, and went on with a lighter heart than he had +possessed for many a day. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +HAWKING WITHOUT A HAWK. + + +Verty nursed the wounded pigeon with the tenderness of a woman and the +skill of a physician; so that on the third day, as he had promised +himself, the bird was completely "restored to health." The wing had +healed, the eyes grown bright again, every movement of the graceful +head and burnished neck showed how impatient the air-sailer was to +return to his mistress and his home. + +"_Ma mere_" said Verty, standing at the door of the old Indian woman's +lodge, "I think this pretty pigeon is well. Now I shall carry it back, +and I know I shall find Redbud." + +Verty, it will be seen, had concealed nothing from his mother; indeed, +he never concealed anything from anybody. He had told her quite simply +that he wanted to see Redbud again; that they wouldn't tell him where +she was; and that the pigeon would enable him to find her. The old +woman had smiled, and muttered something, and that was all. + +Verty now stood with one hand on Cloud's mane, in the early morning, +ready to set forth. + +The pigeon was perched upon his left hand, secured to Verty's arm by a +ribbon tied around one of its feet. This ribbon had been given him by +Redbud. + +In the other hand he carried his rifle, for some days disused--at his +feet lay Longears and Wolf, in vain pleading with down-cast eyes for +permission to accompany him. + +"What a lovely morning!" said Verty, "and look at Cloud, _ma +mere_!--he seems to know it's fall. Then there's Wolf, who can't +understand what I told him about Mr. Rushton's not liking so many +dogs--see how sorry he is." + +"The gun makes him so," said the old woman; "he thinks my boy is going +a hunting." + +"Maybe I shall--who knows?" Verty said. "If I see a deer upon my way, +good-bye to the law work!" + +And bounding lightly into the saddle--a movement which caused the +pigeon to open and flutter its wings--Verty smiled on the old woman, +placed his hand on his breast, and touched Cloud with his heel. + +Cloud shook his head, and set forward cheerfully, Longears galloping +by his master's side. + +Verty drank in the Autumn loveliness with that delight which he always +experienced in the fresh pure hills, with the mountain winds around +him. The trees seemed to be growing more and more gorgeous in their +coloring, and the cries of wild birds were far more jubilant +than ever. As he went on along the narrow bridle path, under the +magnificent boughs, his countenance was brighter and more joyous, and +he broke once or twice into a song. + +Suddenly, while he was humming thus in a low tune, to himself, a still +"croak!" attracted his attention, and he stopped abruptly. + +"Ah!" he murmured, "that's a good big gobbler, and I'll see about +him!" + +And Verty cautiously dismounted, and with one foot raised, listened +for a repetition of the sound. + +It was not long before the turkey's call was again heard from a thick +copse on his left. + +The young hunter turned, and imprisoning Cloud's nostril in his +nervous grasp, looked fixedly into that intelligent animal's eyes. +Cloud seemed to understand very well--nodded his head--drew a long +breath--and stood like a statue. Verty then placed his foot upon +Longears, made a gesture with his hand, and Longears showed himself +equally docile. He laid down, and without moving, followed his master +with his eyes, and listened. + +Verty crept noiselessly, without treading on a leaf or a twig, to a +neighboring thicket, from which the horse and dog were not visible. +He then lay down in the bushy top of a fallen pine, and without the +assistance of any "call," such as hunters generally make use of, +uttered the low, cautious cry of the wild turkey. This he repeated a +number of times, and then remained still. + +For ten or fifteen minutes no noise disturbed the stillness of the +forest; all was quiet. Then a slight agitation of the leaves was +visible at the distance of fifty or sixty yards, and a magnificent +gobbler made his appearance, moving his bright head, and darting upon +every side glances of curiosity and circumspection. + +He was looking for the female who had called him. + +Verty cocked his rifle, and uttered the low croak again. + +This seemed to remove any fears which the turkey had--he replied +to it, and advanced toward Verty's impromptu "blind." A streak of +sunlight through the boughs fell on his burnished neck and brilliant +head, and he paused again. + +Verty ran his eye along the barrel--covered the turkey bashaw's head, +and fired. The ball passed through the fowl's throat, and he fell +back with violent flutterings--no longer anything but the memory of a +living turkey. + +"Very well," said Verty, smoothing the head of his pigeon, which had +been greatly startled by the explosion, "I can shoot better than +that--I ought to have hit your eye, Monsieur." + +And going to the spot he took up the turkey, and then returned to +Cloud, who, with Longears at his feet, remained perfectly quiet, + +Verty tied the turkey to his saddle-bow, and went on laughing. He made +his entry into Winchester in this extremely lawyer-like guise; that is +to say, in moccasins and leggins, with a rifle in one hand, a pigeon +on the wrist of the other, and a turkey dangling at his horse's side. +Cloud, in order to complete the picture, was shaggier than ever, and +Verty himself had never possessed so many tangled curls. His shoulders +were positively covered with them. + +Unfortunately Winchester had no artist at the period. + +Mr. Roundjacket was standing at the door of the office, and he greeted +Verty with a loud laugh. + +"You young savage!" he said, "there you are looking like a barbarous +backwoodsman, when we are trying our very best to make a respectable +lawyer of you." + +Verty smiled, and let Cloud dip his muzzle into the trough of a pump +which stood by the door, venerable-looking and iron-handled, like all +parish pumps. + +"What excuse have you, young man?" said Mr. Roundjacket. "The +individual who arrives late at the locality of his daily exercitation +will eventually become a candidate for the high and responsible +position of public suspension." + +"_Anan_? said Verty, who was not accustomed to paraphrase. Then +turning his eyes toward the pigeon, he said: + +"Pretty fellow! Oh! will you show me the way? You shall--to see +Redbud!" + +And Verty, for the first time, seemed to realize the fact, that he +could see her again. His countenance became brilliant--his eyes were +filled with light--his lips wreathed with smiles. + +Mr. Roundjacket was astounded. + +"Young man," he said, sticking his pen behind his ear, "I should +be pleased to know what you are thinking about! You are really +extravagant, sir--you need the purifying and solidifying influence of +the law; believe me--hey! what are you doing there?" + +Verty was gnawing off the ribbon from the pigeon's foot, tied too +tightly; he could not undo it, and having no knife, used his sharp +white teeth for the purpose. + +The pigeon sank down toward the horizon--seemed about to +disappear--Verty uttered a deep sigh. But no: the bird suddenly +pauses, drops from the clouds, and settles upon the roof of a house +crowning a grassy hill, which hill was distant from Verty not more +than a quarter of a mile. + +A smile of delight passed over Verty's countenance. He had found +Redbud--she was there! + +There was no longer any necessity for such headlong speed--he could go +on slowly now--the goal was near, and would not fly as he approached. + +Verty drew near the house, which was a tall, wooden structure, +embowered in trees, and carefully reconnoitered with true +huntsman-like precision. He thought that the place looked like the +residence of Redbud--it was so bright, and sunny, and cheerful. + +On the roof sat the returned pigeon, cooing, and pluming his wings +among his fellows. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +VERTY MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF MR. JINKS. + + +Just as Verty was making this latter observation, his smiling eyes +fixed on the mansion before him, he heard a voice at his feet, so to +speak, which had the effect of bringing him to earth once more, and +this voice said, loftily-- + +"You seem to be interested, sir--handsome house, sir--very handsome +house, sir--also the occupants thereof." + +Verty looked, and descried a gentleman of very odd appearance, who was +looking at him intently. This gentleman was slender of limb, and tall; +his lower extremities were clad in a tight pair of short breeches, +beneath which, scarlet stockings plunged themselves into enormous +shoes, decorated with huge rosettes; his coat was half-military, +half-fop; and a long sword buckled round his waist, knocked +against his fantastic grasshopper legs. His hair was frizzled; his +countenance, a most extraordinary one; his manner, a mixture of the +hero and the bully, of noble dignity and truculent swagger, as if +Ancient Pistol had taken the part of Coriolanus, and had not become +proficient wholly in his lofty personation. + +When this gentleman walked, his long sword bobbed, as we have said, +against his legs; when he bowed, his attitude was full of dignity; +when he grimaced, he presented an appearance which would have +made Punchinello serious, and induced a circus clown to fall into +convulsions of despair. + +This was the figure which now stood before Verty, and caused that +young man to lower his eyes from the roof and the pigeons. Verty +looked at the gentleman for a moment, and smiled. + +"It is a handsome house," he said. + +"Handsome?" said the tall gentleman, with dignity. "I believe you. +That house, sir, is the finest I ever saw." + +"Is it?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir." + +Verty nodded. + +"I am a traveller, sir." + +"Are you?" + +"I am," said the military gentleman, solemnly. "I have been +everywhere, sir; and even in Philadelphia and Paris there is nothing +like that house." + +"Indeed?" Verty said, surveying the remarkable edifice. + +"Do you see the portico?" said the gentleman, frowning. + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"That, sir, is exactly similar to the Acropolis--Pantheon at Rome." + +"Eh?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir; and then the wings--do you see the wings?" + +"Plainly," said Verty. + +"Those, sir, are modeled on the State-House in Paris, and are intended +to shelter the youthful damsels, here assembled, as the wings of a hen +do the chickens of her bosom--hem! Cause and effect, sir--philosophy +and poetry unite to render this edifice the paragon and brag of +architectural magnificence." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"I see you speak French." + +"That ain't French." + +"No? Then it's something else. Going up there?" + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"Fine turkey that. For the old lady?" + +"Who's the old lady?" + +"Old Mrs. Scowley--a model of the divine sex, sir." + +"No, it ain't for her," said Verty, smiling. + +"For Miss Sallianna?" + +"Who's that?" + +"I see, sir, that you are not acquainted with this still more divine +specimen of the--hum--I said that once before. Miss Sallianna, sir, is +the beautiful sister of the respected Scowley." + +"And who is here besides, if you please?" said Verty. + +"A number of charming young ladies, sir. It is a seminary, sir,--an +abode of science and accomplishments generally, sir;--the delights +of philosophy, sir, take up their chosen dwelling here, and--stop! +there's my soul's idol! Jinks will never have another!" + +And Mr. Jinks kissed his hand, and grimaced at a young lady who +appeared at the gate, with a book in her hand. + +This young lady was Redbud. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +HOW VERTY DISCOVERED IN HIMSELF A GREAT FONDNESS FOR APPLES. + + +Verty threw himself from his horse, and ran forward toward Redbud with +an expression of so much joy, that even Longears perceived it; and, in +the excess of his satisfaction, reared up on Mr. Jinks, claiming his +sympathy. + +Mr. Jinks brushed his clothes, and protested, frowning. Verty did not +hear him, however--he was at the gate with Redbud. + +"Oh!" he cried, "how glad I am to see you! What in the world made you +come here, Redbud, and stay away from me so long!" + +Redbud blushed, and murmured something. + +"Never mind," said Verty; "I'm so glad to see you, that I won't +quarrel." + +And he pressed the little hand which he held with such ardor, that +Redbud blushed more than ever. + +But she had scarcely uttered a word--scarcely smiled on him. What did +it mean? Poor Verty's face began to be overclouded. + +What did it mean. That is not a very difficult question to us, however +much it might have puzzled Verty. It meant that Miss Lavinia had +suggested to Redbud the impropriety of remaining on terms of +cordiality and friendship with a young gentleman, who, after the +fashion of all youths, in all ages of the world, was desperately +anxious to become some young lady's husband. It meant that the +"lecture" of this great female philosopher had produced its +effect,--that Miss Redbud had waked to a consciousness of the fact, +that she was a "young lady," and that her demeanor toward Verty was +improper. + +Before, she had thought that there was no great impropriety in running +to meet the forest boy, with whom she had played for years, and whom +she knew so very well. Now this was changed. Cousin Lavinia saw a +decided impropriety in her meeting Verty with a bright smile, and +giving him her hand, and saying, in her frank, affectionate voice: +"Oh! I'm so glad to see you!" Of course, cousin Lavinia knew all about +it; and it was very dreadful in her to have been treating Verty with +so little ceremony--very, very dreadful. Was she not growing up, and +even did she not wear long dresses? Was such conduct in a lady of +sixteen proper? + +So, innocence listened to worldly wisdom, and pride overturned +simplicity; and, in consequence, our friend Verty found himself +opposite a young lady who blushed, and exhibited a most unaccountable +constraint, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, when he was +ready for, and expected, the most enthusiastic greeting. + +We must, however, speak of another influence which made Redbud so +cool;--and this will, very probably, have occurred to our lady +readers, if we have any, as the better explanation. Separation! Yes, +the separation which stimulates affection, and bathes the eyes in the +languid dews of memory. Strephon is never so devoted as when Chloe has +been removed from him--when his glances seek for her in vain on the +well-remembered lawn. And Chloe, too, is disconsolate, when she no +longer sees the crook of her shepherd, or hears the madrigals he +sings. Absence smoothes all rough places; and the friend from whom we +are separated, takes the dearest place in the heart of hearts. + +Redbud did not discover how much she loved Verty, until she was gone +from him, and the fresh music of his laughter was no longer in her +ears. Then she found that he held a very different place in her heart +from what she had supposed;--or rather, to speak more accurately, she +did not reflect in the least upon the matter, but only felt that he +was not there near her, and that she was not happy. + +This will explain the prim little ladylike air of bashfulness and +constraint which Redbud exhibited, when her eyes fell on Verty, and +the coolness with which she gave him her hand. The old things had +passed away--Verty could be the boy-playmate no more, however much it +grieved her. Thus reflected Miss Redbud; and in accordance with this +train of reasoning, did she conduct herself upon the occasion of which +we speak. + +So, to Strephon's request to be informed why she came thither, without +telling him, Chloe replied with a blush: + +"Oh, I came to school--sir," she was about to add, but did not. + +"To school? Is this a school for young ladies?" + +Redbud, with a delicate little inclination of the head, said yes. + +"Well," Verty went on, "I am glad I found you; for, Redbud, you can't +tell how I've been feeling, ever since you went away. It seemed to me +that there was a big weight resting on my breast." + +Redbud colored, and laughed. + +"Sometimes," said Verty, smiling, "I would try and get it away by +drawing in my breath, and ever so long; but I could'nt," he added, +shaking his head; "I don't know what it means." + +Mr. Jinks, who was dusting his rosetted shoes with a white pocket +handkerchief, grimaced at this. + +"Well, well," Verty went on, "I begin to feel better now, since I've +seen you; and, I think, I'll do better in my office work." + +"Office work?" asked Redbud, beginning to grow more like her former +self. + +"Oh, yes!" Verty replied; "I'm in Mr. Rushton's office now, and I'm a +lawyer's clerk;--that's what they call it, I believe." + +Redbud returned his bright smile. Her eye wandered toward Cloud, who +stood perfectly still--the turkey, which had not been removed, yet +dangling at his saddle-bow. + +Verty followed the young girl's glance, and smiled. + +"I know what you are looking at," he said; "you are looking at that +wild turkey, and thinking that I am a poor sort of a lawyer, with such +a book to read out of. But I shot him coming along." + +Redbud laughed; her coolness could not last in Verty's presence; his +fresh voice, so full of their old happy times, made her a child again. + +"And how did you find me'?" she said, in her old tone. + +"By your pigeon!" + +"My pigeon? + +"Yes, indeed; I shot him." + +"You shot him, Verty?" + +Verty experienced,--he knew not why,--a feeling of extreme delight, on +hearing his name from her lips. + +"Yes, I did so, Redbud," he replied, confidentially, "and I cured him, +too. Look at him, up there on the roof, coo-cooing! He was sailing +over the town, and I sent an arrow after him, and brought him straight +down." + +"Oh, Verty! how cruel!" + +"I never would 'a shot him if I had seen the name on his neck." + +"The name--yes--" + +"Yours, Redbud. There was a piece of paper, and on it--but here's the +paper." + +And Verty took from his bosom the yellow scroll, and placed it in +Redbud's hand. + +She took it, smiling, and read the words--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon, +and Fanny gave me to her." + +"Oh, yes," she said, "and I am glad he's come back; poor fellow, I +hav'nt seen him for days!" + +"I had him," said Verty. + +"At home?" + +"Yes." + +"Curing him?" + +Verty nodded. + +"You know that was what I wanted. I cured him, and then let him go, +and followed him, and found you." + +Verty, in an absent way, took Miss Redbud's hand, and was guilty of +the bad taste of squeezing it. + +The reply and the action seemed to recall Redbud to herself; and she +suddenly drew back with a blush. + +Verty looked astounded. In the midst of his confusion a martial +"hem!" was heard, and Mr. Jinks, who had been carefully adjusting his +toilette, drew near the lovers. + +"Hem!" said Mr. Jinks, "a very fine day, Miss Redbud. Loveliest of +your sex and delight of the world, have I the pleasure of seeing you +in that high state of happiness and health which of right should +belong to you?" + +With this Mr. Jinks bowed and gesticulated, and spread out his arms +like a graceful giraffe, and dispensed on every side the most engaging +grimaces. + +Redbud bowed, with an amused look in her little blushing face; and +just as she had got through with this ceremony, another personage was +added to the company. + +This was an elderly lady of severe aspect, who, clad in black, and +with an awfully high cap, which cast a shadow as it came, appeared at +the door of the house, and descended like a hawk upon the group. + +"Well, Miss Summers!" she said, in a crooked and shrill voice, +"talking to gentlemen, I see! Mr. Jinks, against rules, sir--come, +Miss, you know my wishes on this subject." + +As she spoke, her eyes fell upon the turkey hanging from Cloud's +saddle-bow. + +"Young man," she said to Verty, "what's the price of that turkey?" + +Verty was looking at Redbud, and only knew that the awful Mrs. Scowley +had addressed him, from Redbud's whispering to him. + +"_Anan_?" he said. + +"I say, what's the price of that turkey?" continued the old lady; "if +you are moderate, I'll buy it. Don't think, though, that I am going +to give you a high price. You mountain people," she added, looking at +Verty's wild costume, "can get along with very little money. Come, how +much?" + +Verty on that occasion did the only artful thing which he ever +accomplished--but what will not a lover do? + +He went to Cloud, took the fine gobbler from the saddle, and bringing +it to Mrs. Scowley, laid it at the feet of that awful matron with a +smile. + +"You may have him," said Verty, "I don't want him." + +"Don't want him!" + +"No, ma'am--I just shot him so--on my way to my writing." + +"Your writing, sir?" said Mrs. Scowley, gazing at Verty with some +astonishment--"what writing?" + +"I'm in Mr. Rushton's office, and I write," Verty replied, "but I +don't like it much." + +Mrs. Scowley for a moment endeavored to look Verty out of countenance, +but finding that the young man seemed to have no consciousness of the +fact, and that he returned her gaze with friendly interest, the ogress +uttered a sound between a snort and a cough, and said:-- + +"Then you did'nt come to sell the turkey?" + +"No, indeed, ma'am." + +"For what, then?" + +"I came to see Redbud," replied Verty; "you know, ma'am, that we know +each other very well; I thought I'd come." And Verty smiled. + +Mrs. Scowley was completely puzzled--she had never before seen a +gentleman of Verty's candor, and could find no words to reply. She +thought of saying to our friend that visiting a young lady at school +was highly criminal and reprehensible, but a glance at the fat turkey +lying on the grass at her feet, caused her to suppress this speech. + +As she gazed, her feeling relented more and more--Verty grew still +more amiable in her eyes--the turkey evidently weighed more than +twenty pounds. + +"I'm much obliged to you, young man," she said, "and I'll take the +turkey from you as a friend. Come in and have some apples--there's a +bell-mouth tree." + +"Oh yes!" said Verty, "I'm very fond of apples--but Redbud may have +some, too?" he added, smiling innocently. + +"Hum!" said the ogress. + +"Just a few, you know, ma'am," said Verty, with his bright smile. "I +know from the way she looks that she wants some. Don't you, Redbud?" + +Poor Redbud's resolutions all melted--Verty's voice did it all--she +blushed and nodded, and said yes, she should like very much to have +some apples. + +"Then you may go," said the ogress, somewhat mollified, "but don't +touch the small trees--I'm keeping them." + +"Not for worlds!" said Verty. + +"No, ma'am," said Redbud. + +And they crossed the lawn, and opening the gate of the spacious and +well-kept garden, passed in under the apple boughs. As for Mr. Jinks, +he accompanied Mrs. Scowley to the house, bowing, grimacing, ambling, +and making himself generally agreeable. True, he resembled a +grasshopper, standing erect, and going through the steps of a minuet; +but there was much elegance in Mr. Jinks' evolutions, and unbounded +elasticity of limb. He entered with Mrs. Scowley; and there, for the +present, we shall leave him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HOW STREPHON TALKED WITH CHLOE IN AN ARBOR. + + +It was a beautiful garden which Verty and Redbud entered, hand in +hand;--one of those old pleasure-grounds which, with their grass and +flowers, and long-armed trees, laden with fruit or blossoms, afford +such a grateful retreat to the weary or the sorrowful. The breath +of the world comes not into such places--all its jar and tumult and +turmoil, faint, die and disappear upon the flower-enameled threshold; +and the cool breath of the bright heavens fans no longer wrinkled +foreheads and compressed lips. All care passes from us in these +fairy-land retreats; and if we can be happy any where, it is there. + +We said that Verty and Redbud entered, hand in hand, and this may +serve to show that the young pupil of Miss Lavinia had not profited +much by the lessons of her mentor. + +In truth, Redbud began to return to her childhood, which she had +promised herself to forget; and, as a result of this change of +feeling, she became again the friend and playfellow of her childhood's +friend, and lost sight, completely, of the "young lady" theory. True, +she did not run on, as the phrase is, with Verty, as in the old +days--her manner had far more softness in it--she was more quiet and +reserved; but still, those constrained, restless looks were gone, and +when Verty laughed, the winning smile came to the little face; and the +small hand which he had taken was suffered to rest quietly in his own. + +They strolled under the trees, and Verty picked up some of the long +yellow-rinded apples, which, lay upon the ground under the trees, and +offered them to Redbud. + +"I didn't want the apples," he said, smiling, "I wanted to see you, +Redbud, for I've not felt right since you went away. Oh, it's been so +long--so long!" + +"Only a few days," said Redbud, returning the smile. + +"But you know a few days is a very long time, when you want to see +anybody very much." + +Redbud returned his frank smile, and said, with a delicious little +prim expression: + +"Did you want to see me very much, Verty?" + +"Yes, indeed; I didn't know how much I liked you," said the boy, with +his ingenuous laugh; "the woods didn't look right, and I was always +thinking about you." + +Redbud colored slightly, but this soon disappeared, and she laughed in +that low, joyous, musical tone, which characterized her. + +"There it is!" said Verty, going through the same ceremony; "that's +one thing I missed." + +"What?" + +"Your laughing!" + +"Indeed!" Redbud said. + +"Yes, indeed. I declare, on my word, that I would rather hear you +laugh, than listen to the finest mocking-bird in the world." + +"You are very gallant!" said Miss Redbud. + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"I mean you are very friendly to me, Verty," said Redbud, with a +bright look at his frank face. + +"Why, what have I done? I hav'nt done anything for you, for ages. Let +me see--can't I do something now? Oh yes, there are some flowers, and +I can make a nice wreath!" + +And Verty ran and gathered an armful of primroses, marigolds, and +golden rods; some late roses, too, and so returned to Redbud. + +"Now come to the arbor here--it's just like the Apple Orchard +one--come, and I'll make you a crown." + +"Oh! I don't deserve it," laughed the young girl. + +Verty smiled. + +"Yes, you do," he said, "for you are my queen." + +And he went and sat down upon the trellised bench, and began weaving a +wreath of the delicate yellow autumn primroses and other flowers. + +Redbud sat down and watched him. + +Placed thus, they presented a singular contrast, and, together, formed +a picture, not wanting in a wild interest--Verty, clothed in his +forest costume of fur and beads, his long, profusely-curling hair +hanging upon his shoulders, and his swarthy cheeks, round, and +reddened with health, presented rather the appearance of an Indian +than an Anglo-Saxon--a handsome wild animal rather than a pleasant +young man. Redbud's face and dress were in perfect contrast with all +this--she was fair, with that delicate rose-color, which resembles the +tender flush of sunset, in her cheeks; her hair was brushed back from +her forehead, and secured behind with a large bow of scarlet ribbon; +her dress was of rich silk, with hanging sleeves; a profusion of +yellow lace, and a dozen rosettes affixed to the dress, in front, set +off the costume admirably, and gave to the young girl that pretty +attractive _toute ensemble_ which corresponded with her real +character. + +As she followed Verty's movements, the frank little face wore a very +pleasant smile, and at times she would pick up and hand to him a leaf +or a bud, which attention he rewarded with a smile in return. + +At last the wreath was finished, and, rising up, Verty placed it on +Redbud's forehead. + +"How nicely it fits," he said; "who would have imagined that my +awkward fingers could have done it?" + +Redbud sat down with a slight color in her cheek. + +"I am very much obliged to you, Verty," she said; "it was very good in +you to make this for me--though I don't deserve it." + +"Indeed you do--you are my queen: and here is the right place for me." + +So saying, Verty smiled, and lay down at the feet of Redbud, leaning +on the trellised bench, and looking up into that young lady's eyes. + +"You look so pretty!" he said, after a silence of some moments, "so +nice and pretty, Redbud!" + +"Do I?" said Redbud, smiling and blushing. + +"And so good." + +"Oh, no--I am not!" + +"Not good?" + +"Far from it, Verty." + +"Hum!" said Verty, "I should like to know how! I might be better if +you were at Apple Orchard again." + +"Better?" + +"Yes, yes--why can't you live at Apple Orchard, where we were so +happy?" + +Redbud smiled. + +"You know I am growing up now," she said. + +"Growing up?" + +"Yes; and I must learn my lessons--those lessons which cousin Lavinia +can't teach me!" + +"What lessons are they?" + +"Music, and dancing, and singing, and all." + +Verty reflected. + +"Are they better than the Bible?" he said, at length. + +Redbud looked shocked, and replied to the young savage: + +"Oh no, no!--I hardly think they are important at all; but I suppose +every young lady learns them. It is necessary," added the little +maiden, primly. + +"Ah, indeed? well, I suppose it is," Verty replied, thoughtfully; "a +real lady could'nt get along without knowing the minuet, and all that. +But I'm mighty sorry you had to go. I've lost _my_ teacher by your +going." + +Redbud returned his frank look, and said: + +"I'm very sorry, Verty; but never mind--you read your Bible, don't +you?" + +"Yes," Verty replied, "I promised you; and I read all about Joseph, +and Nimrod, who was a hunter, and other people." + +"Don't you ever read in the New Testament?" Redbud said. "I wish you +would read in that, too, Verty." + +And Redbud, with all the laughter gone away from her countenance, +regarded Verty with her tender, earnest eyes, full of kindness and +sincerity. + +"I do," Verty replied, "and I like it better. But I'm very bad. I +don't think I'm so good when you are away, Redbud. I don't do what +you tell me. The fact is, I believe I'm a wild Indian; but I'll grow +better as I grow older." + +"I know you will," said the kind eyes, plainly, and Verty smiled. + +"I'm coming to see you very often here," he said, smiling, "and I'm +going to do my work down at the office--that old lady will let me come +to see you, I know." + +Redbud looked dubious. + +"I don't know whether cousin Lavinia would think it was right," she +said. + +And her head drooped, the long dusky lashes covering her eyes and +reposing on her cheek. It was hard for Redbud thus to forbid her +boy-playmate, but she felt that she ought to do so. + +"Think it right!" cried Verty, rising half up, and resting on his +hand, "why, what's the harm?" + +"I don't know," Redbud said, blushing, "but I think you had better ask +cousin Lavinia." + +Her head sank again. + +Verty remained silent for some moments, then said: + +"Well, I will! I'll go this very day, on my way home." + +"That's right, Verty," replied the young girl, smiling hopefully, "and +I think you will get cousin Lavinia to let you come. You know that I +want you to." + +Verty smiled, then looking at his companion, said: + +"What made you so cold to me when I came at first? I thought you had +forgotten me." + +Redbud, conscious of her feelings, blushed and hesitated. Just as she +was about to stammer out some disconnected words, however, voices +were heard behind the shrubbery, which separated the arbor from a +neighboring walk, and this created a diversion. + +Verty and Redbud could not help overhearing this conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +VERTY EXPRESSES A DESIRE TO IMITATE MR. JINKS. + + +The voice which they heard first was that of Mr. Jinks; and that +gentleman was apparently engaged in the pleasant occupation of +complimenting a lady. + +"Fairest of your sex!" said the enthusiastic Mr. Jinks, "how can I +express the delight which your presence inspires me with--ahem!" + +The sound of a fan coming in contact with a masculine hand was heard, +and a mincing voice replied:-- + +"Oh, you are a great flatterer, Mr. Jinks. You are really too bad. Let +us view the beauties of nature." + +"They are not so lovely as those beauties which I have been viewing +since I saw you, my dearest Miss Sallianna." + +("That's old Scowley's sister, he said so," whispered Verty.) + +"Really, you make me blush," replied the mincing and languishing +voice--"you men are dreadful creatures!" + +"Dreadful!" + +"You take advantage of our simplicity and confidence to make us +believe you think very highly of us." + +"Highly! divinest Miss Sallianna! _highly_ is not the word; +extravagantly is better! In the presence of your lovely sex we feel +our hearts expand; our bosoms--hem!--are enlarged, and we are all your +slaves." + +("Just listen, Redbud!" whispered Verty, laughing.) + +"La!" replied the voice, "how gallant you are, Mr. Jinks!" + +"No, Madam!" said Mr. Jinks, "I am not gallant!" + +"You?" + +"Far from it, Madam--I am a bear, a savage, with all the rest of the +female sex; but with you--you--hem! that is different!" + +("Don't go, Redbud!--" + +"But, Verty--" + +"Just a minute, Redbud.") + +"Yes, a savage; I hate the sex--I distrust them!" continued Mr. Jinks, +in a gloomy tone; "before seeing you, I had made up my mind to retire +forever from the sight of mankind, and live on roots, or something of +that description. But you have changed me--you have made me human." + +And Mr. Jinks, to judge from his tone of voice, was looking dignified. + +The fair lady uttered a little laugh. + +"There it is!" cried Mr. Jinks, "you are always happy--always smiling +and seducing--you are the paragon of your sex. If it will be any +satisfaction to you, Madam, I will immediately die for you, and give +up the ghost." + +Which Mr. Jinks seemed to consider wholly different from the former. + +"Heigho!" said the lady, "you are very devoted, sir." + +"I should be, Madam." + +"I am not worthy of so much praise." + +"You are the pearl of your sex, Madam." + +"Oh, no! I am only a simple young girl--but twenty-five last +January--and I have no pretensions in comparison with many others. +Immured in this quiet retreat, with a small property, and engaged in +the opprobrious occupation of cultivating the youthful mind--" + +"A noble employment, Madam." + +"Yes, very pleasing; with this, and with a contemplation of the +beautiful criterions of nature, I am happy." + +"Fairest of your sex, is this all that is necessary for happiness?" +observed Mr. Jinks. + +"What more!" + +"Is solitude the proper sphere of that divine sex which in all ages of +the world--ahem!--has--" + +"Oh, sir!" + +And the flirting of the fan was heard. + +"Should not woman have a companion--a consoler, who--" + +The fan was evidently used to hide a number of blushes. + +"Should not such a lovely creature as yourself," continued the +enthusiastic Jinks, "choose one to--" + +Redbud rose quickly, and said, blushing and laughing:-- + +"Oh, come, Verty!" + +"No, no--listen!" said Verty, "I do believe--" + +"No, no, no!" cried Redbud, hurriedly, "it was very wrong--" + +"What?--courting." + +"Oh, no! It's mean in us to listen!" + +And she went out of the arbor, followed by Verty, who said, "I'm glad +courting ain't wrong; I think I should like to court you, Redbud." + +Redbud made no reply to this innocent speech of Mr. Verty, but walked +on. The noise which they made in leaving the arbor attracted the +attention of the personages whose conversation we have been compelled +to overhear; and Mr. Jinks and his companion passed through an opening +in the shrubbery, and appeared in full view. + +Miss Sallianna was a young lady of thirty-two or three, with long +corkscrew curls, a wiry figure--a smile, of the description called +"simper," on her lips, and an elegant mincing carriage of the person +as she moved. She carried a fan, which seemed to serve for a number of +purposes: to raise artificial breezes, cover imaginary blushes, and +flirt itself against the hands or other portions of the persons of +gentlemen making complimentary speeches. + +She displayed some temporary embarrassment upon seeing Redbud and +Verty; and especially stared at that young gentleman. + +Mr. Jinks was more self-possessed. + +"Ah, my dear sir!" he said, stalking toward Verty, and grimacing, at +the same time, at Redbud, "are you there, and with the fairest of +her--hem!" + +And Mr. Jinks stopped, nearly caught in the meshes of his gallantry. + +"Yes, this is me, and I've been talking with Redbud," said Verty; "is +that Miss Sallianna?" + +The lady had recovered her simper; and now flirted her fan as +gracefully as ever. + +"See how your reputation has gone far and wide," said Mr. Jinks, with +a fascinating grimace. + +"You know you were talking of her when--how do you do, Miss +Sallianna," said Verty, holding out his hand. + +"La!" said the fair one, inserting the points of her fingers into +Verty's palm, "and Mr. Jinks was talking of me? What did he say, +sir,--I suppose it was in town." + +"No, ma'am," said Verty, "it was at the gate, when I came to see +Redbud--the pigeon showed me the way. He said you were something--but +I've forgot." + +"The paragon of beauties and the pearl of loveliness," suggested Mr. +Jinks. + +"I don't think it was that," Verty replied, "but it was something +pretty--prettier than what you said just now, when you were courting +Miss Sallianna, you know." + +Mr. Jinks cleared his throat--Miss Sallianna blushed. + +"Really--" said Mr. Jinks. + +"What children!" said the lady, with a patronizing air; "Reddy, do you +know your lesson?" + +By which question, Miss Sallianna evidently intended to reduce Miss +Redbud to her proper position of child. + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud "and Mrs. Scowley said I might come in +here." + +"With this--young man?" + +"Yes, ma'am. He is a very old friend of mine." + +"Indeed!" simpered the lady. + +"Are you not, Verty?" + +But Verty was intently watching Longears, who was trying to insert his +nose between two bars of the garden gate. + +"_Anan_?" he said. + +"La, what does he mean?" said the lady; "see! he's looking at +something." + +Verty was only making friendly signs to Longears to enter the garden. +Longears no sooner understood that he was called, than he cleared the +fence at one bound, and came up to his master. + +Mr. Jinks had not heard his own voice for at least half a minute; so +he observed, loftily: + +"A handsome dog! a very handsome dog, sir! What did you say his name +was? Longears? Yes? Here, Longears!" + +And he made friendly signs of invitation to the hound. Longears +availed himself of these indications of friendship by rearing up on +Mr. Jinks, and leaving a dust-impression of his two paws upon that +gentleman's ruffled shirt-bosom. + +Verty laughed, and dragged him away. + +"Longears," he said, "I'm surprised at you--and here, too, where you +should conduct yourself better than usual!" + +Miss Sallianna was about to say something, when a bell was heard to +ring. + +"Oh!" said Redbud, "there's school. Playtime's over." + +"Over?" said Verty, with an exhibition of decided ill-humor. + +"Yes, sir," said Miss Sallianna, "and my young pupil must now return +to her studies. Mr. Jinks--" + +And the lady threw a languishing glance on her cavalier. + +"You will come soon again, and continue our discussion--of--of--the +beauties of nature? We are very lonely here." + +"Will I come?" cried the enthusiastic Jinks; and having thus +displayed, by the tone in which his words were uttered, the depth of +his devotion, the grasshopper gentleman gallantly pressed the hand +held out to him, and, with a lofty look, made his exit out of the +garden. + +Verty followed. But first he said to Redbud, smiling: + +"I'm going to see Miss Lavinia this very day, to ask her to let me +come to see you. You know I must come to see you, Redbud. I don't know +why, but I must." + +Redbud blushed, and continued to caress Longears, who submitted to +this ceremony with great equanimity. + +"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "let us return, Miss Summers." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud; "good-bye, Verty," she added, looking at +the boy with her kind, smiling eyes, and lowering her voice, "remember +what you promised me--to read your Bible." + +And smiling again, Redbud gave him her hand, and then followed Miss +Sallianna, who sailed on before--her head resting languidly on one +shoulder--her fan arranged primly upon her maiden chin--her eyes +raised in contemplation to the sky. + +Poor Verty smiled and sighed, and followed Redbud with his eyes, and +saw her disappear--the kind, tender eyes fixed on him to the last. He +sighed again, as she passed from his sight; and so left the garden. +Mr. Jinks was swaggering amiably toward town--Cloud was standing, like +a statue, where his master had left him. Verty, leaning one arm on the +saddle, murmured: + +"Really, Redbud is getting prettier than ever, and I wonder if I am +what Mr. Roundjacket calls 'in love' with her?" + +Finding himself unable to answer this question, Verty shook his head +wisely, got into the saddle, and set forward toward the town, Longears +following duly in his wake. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE THIRTEENTH OF OCTOBER. + + +Just as the boy left the surburban residence of Miss Redbud, Mr. +Roundjacket, who had been writing at his old dusty desk for an hour, +raised his head, hearing a knock at the door. + +He thrust the pen he had been using behind his ear, and bade the +intruder "come in!" + +One of the clients of Mr. Rushton made his appearance, and inquired +for that gentleman. Mr. Roundjacket said that Mr. Rushton was +"within," and rose to go and summon him, the visitor meanwhile having +seated himself. + +Mr. Roundjacket tapped at the door of Mr. Rushton's sanctum, but +received no answer. He tapped louder--no reply. Somewhat irate at +this, he kicked the door, and at the same moment opened it, preparing +himself for the encounter. + +An unusual sight awaited him. + +Seated at his old circular table, covered with papers and books, Mr. +Rushton seemed perfectly ignorant of his presence, as he had not heard +the noise of the kick. His head resting upon his hand, the forehead +drooping, the eyes half closed, the bosom shaken by piteous sighs, +and the whole person full of languor and grief, no one would have +recognized the rough, bearish Lawyer Rushton, or believed that there +could be anything in common between him and the individual sitting at +the table, so bowed down with sorrow. + +Before him lay a little book, which he looked at through a mist of +tears. + +Roundjacket touched him on the shoulder, with a glance of wonder, and +said:-- + +"You are sick, sir!--Mr. Rushton, sir!--there is somebody to see you." + +In truth, the honest fellow could scarcely stammer out these broken +words; and when Mr. Rushton, slowly returning to a consciousness of +his whereabouts, raised his sorrowful eyes, Roundjacket looked at him +with profound commiseration and sympathy. + +"You have forgotten," said Mr. Rushton, in a low, broken voice, his +pale lips trembling as he spoke,--"you don't keep account of the days +as I do, Roundjacket." + +"The days--I--" + +"Yes, yes; it is natural for you to wonder at all this," said the +weary looking man, closing the book, and locking it up in a secret +drawer of the table; "let us dismiss the matter. Did you say any one +wanted me? Yes, I can attend to business--my mind is quite clear--I am +ready--I will see them now, Roundjacket." + +And the head of the lawyer fell upon his arm, his bosom shaken with +sobs. + +Roundjacket looked at him no longer with so much surprise--he had +understood all. + +"Yes, yes, sir--I had forgotten," he muttered, "this is the 13th of +October." + +Mr. Rushton groaned. + +Roundjacket was silent for a moment, looking at his friend with deep +sympathy. + +"I don't wonder now at your feelings, sir," he said, "and I am sorry I +intruded on--" + +"No, no--you are a good friend," murmured the lawyer, growing calmer, +"you will understand my feelings, and not think them strange. I am +nearly over it now; it must come--oh! I am very wretched! Oh! Anne! my +child, my child!" + +And allowing his head to fall again, the rough, boorish man cried like +a child, spite of the most violent efforts to regain his composure and +master his emotion. + +"Go," he said, in a low, broken voice, making a movement with his +hand, "I was wrong--I cannot see any one to-day--I must be alone." + +Roundjacket hesitated; moved dubiously from, then toward the lawyer; +finally he seemed to have made up his mind, and going out he closed +the door slowly behind him. As he did so, the key turned in the lock, +and a stifled moan died away in the inner chamber. + +"Mr. Rushton is unwell, and can't transact business to-day," said +Roundjacket, softly, for he was thinking of the poor afflicted heart +"within;" then he added, "you may call to-morrow, sir," + +The visitor went away, wondering at "Judge Rushton" being sick; such +a thing had never before occurred in the recollection of the "oldest +inhabitant." Just as he had disappeared, the door re-opened, and Verty +made his appearance. + +"I'm very sorry, Mr. Roundjacket," said the boy, "for having run off +so this morning, but you see I was after that pigeon. I'll stay till +night, though, and work harder, and then it will be right again." + +Instead of a very solemn and severe rebuke, Verty was surprised to +hear Mr. Roundjacket say, in a low and thoughtful voice:-- + +"You need not work any to-day, Verty--you can go home if you like. Mr. +Rushton is unwell, and wishes to be quiet." + +"Unwell?" said the boy, "you don't mean sick?" + +"Not precisely, but indisposed." + +"I will go and see him," said the boy, moving towards the door. Mr. +Roundjacket interposed with his ruler, managing that instrument pretty +much as a marshal does his baton. + +"No," he said, "that is impossible, young man. But you need give +yourself no uneasiness--Mr. Rushton is only a little out of sorts. You +will find him quite well to-morrow. Return home now. There is your +rifle." + +These words were uttered with so much decision, that Verty made no +further objection. + +"Well," he said, with his thoughtful smile, "I'm very sorry Mr. +Rushton is sick, but I'm glad I can go and hunt some for _ma mere_. +Must I go now, sir?" + +"Yes, and come early to-morrow, there's some work; and besides, your +measure for the clothes must be taken." + +Verty nodded indifferently, and taking up his rifle, went out, +followed by Longears. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE PEDLAR AND THE NECKLACE. + + +Verty mounted Cloud again, and set forward toward Apple Orchard. That +place very soon rose upon his sight, and riding up to the house Verty +encountered the good-humored Squire, who was just coming in from the +fields. + +"Good morning, Squire," said the boy, smiling, "may I go and see +Redbud, if you please?" + +The Squire laughed. + +"Redbud? What, at school, yonder?" + +"Yes, sir." + +The good-natured old gentleman looked at the boy's frank face, and +admired its honest, ingenuous expression. + +"I don't see why you should'nt, Verty," he replied, "if you don't go +too often, and keep my little 'Bud from her lessons." + +"Oh! no, sir." + +"Go, go by all means--it will be of service to her to see home faces, +and you are something like home to her. Short as the distance is, I +can't leave my farm, and we can't have 'Bud with us every week, as I +should wish." + +"I've just come from there," said Verty, "and Redbud is very well, and +seems to like the place. There is a man who comes there to see Miss +Sallianna, and Redbud most dies laughing at him--I mean, I suppose she +does. His name is Mr. Jinks." + +"What! the great Jinks? the soldier, the fop, the coxcomb and +swaggerer!" laughed the Squire. + +Verty nodded. + +"That's the very man, sir," he said, "and I saw him to-day. I came +back, and found Mr. Rushton wanted to be quiet, and Mr. Roundjacket +said I might go and hunt some for _ma mere_" + +"Go, then, Verty; that is, if you won't stop to dinner." + +"I don't think I can, sir--I should like to see Miss Lavinia, though, +if--" + +"Out visiting," said the Squire. + +This removed all Verty's scruples; he had virtually done what he +promised Redbud, and would now go and see her, because the Squire had +a better right to decide than even Miss Lavinia. He, therefore, bowed, +with a smiling look, to the old gentleman, and continued his way +toward the lodge of his mother. + +He had reached the foot of the hill upon which the cabin was situated, +when he saw before him, seated on a log by the side of the bridle-path +he was following, one of those pedlars of former times, who were +accustomed to make the circuit of the countryside with their packs +of wares and stuffs--peripatetic merchants, who not unfrequently +practised the trade of Autolycus. + +This man seemed to be a German; and when he spoke, this impression was +at once verified. He informed Verty that he was tired, very hungry, +had travelled a long way, and would be obliged to his honor for a +little bit of something, just to keep body and soul together till he +reached "Wingester." He had gone toward the house, he said, but a dog +there had scared him, and nobody seemed stirring. + +Verty very readily assented to this request, and first stabling Cloud, +accompanied the German pedlar to the cabin. The old Indian woman was +out in the woods gathering some herbs or roots, in the properties of +which she was deeply learned; and in her absence, Wolf had mounted +guard over the lodge and its contents. The pedlar had approached, +intent on begging, and, if possible, larceny; but Wolf had quickly +bared a double row of long, sharp teeth, which ceremony he had +accompanied with an ominous growl, and this had completely daunted +Autolycus, who had retreated with precipitation. + +Wolf now made no further objection to his entry, seeing that Verty +accompanied him; and the two persons went into the house. + +"_Ma mere's_ away somewhere," said Verty; "but we can broil some +venison. Wait here: I'll go and get it." + +The boy, humming one of the old border songs, opened a door in the +rear of the lodge, and passed into a sort of covered shed, which was +used as a store-room by the old woman. + +The door closed behind him. + +The pedlar looked around; the two hounds were lazily pawing each other +in the sun, before the door, and no sound disturbed the silence, but +their low whining, as they yawned, or the faint cry of some distant +bird. + +The pedlar muttered a cautious "goot!" and looked warily around him. +Nothing worth stealing was visible, at least nothing small enough to +carry away. + +His prying eye, however, detected an old chest in the corner, half +covered with deer and other skins, and the key of this chest was in +the lock. + +The pedlar rose cautiously, and listened. + +The young man was evidently preparing the venison steaks from the +noise he made, an occupation which he accompanied with the low, Indian +humming. + +The pedlar went on the points of his toes to the chest, carefully +turned the key, and opened it. With a quick hand he turned over its +contents, looking round cautiously. + +After some search, he drew forth a silver spoon, and what seemed to be +a necklace of red beads, the two ends of which were brought together +by a circular gold plate. Just as the pedlar thrust these objects into +his capacious breast-pocket, the door opened, and Verty entered. + +But the boy did not observe him--he quickly and cautiously closed the +chest, and began examining one of the skins on the lid. + +Verty looked up from the steaks in his hand, observed the occupation +of the pedlar, and began to laugh, and talk of his hunting. + +The pedlar drew a long breath, returned to his pack, and sat down. + +As he did so, the old Indian woman came in, and the boy ran to her, +and kissed her hand, and placed it on his head. This was Indian +fashion. + +"Oh, _ma mere_!" he cried, "I've seen Redbud, and had such a fine +time, and I'm so happy! I'm hungry, too; and so is this honest fellow +with the pack. There go the steaks!" + +And Verty threw them on the gridiron, and burst out laughing. + +In a quarter of an hour they were placed on the rude table, and the +three persons sat down--Verty laughing, the old woman smiling at him, +the pedlar sullen and omnivorous. + +After devouring everything on the table, the worthy took his departure +with his pack upon his shoulders. + +"I don't like that man, but let him go," said Verty. "Now, _ma mere_, +I'm going out to hunt a bit for you." + +The old woman gazed fondly on him, and this was all Verty needed. He +rose, called the dogs, and loaded his gun. + +"Good-bye, _ma mere_" he said, going out; "don't let any more of these +pedlar people come here. I feel as if that one who has just gone away, +had done me some harm. Come, Longears! come, Wolf!" + +And Verty took his way through the forest, still humming his low, +Indian song. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MR. ROUNDJACKET MAKES HIMSELF AGREEABLE. + + +On the morning after the scenes which we have just related, Mr. +Roundjacket was seated on his tall three-legged stool, holding in +his left hand the MS. of his poem, and brandishing in his right the +favorite instrument of his eloquence, when, chancing to raise his +eyes, he saw through the window an approaching carriage, which +carriage had evidently conceived the design of drawing up at the door +of Mr. Rushton's office. + +A single glance showed Mr. Roundjacket that this carriage contained a +lady; a second look told him that the lady was Miss Lavinia. + +We might very rationally suppose that the great poet, absorbed in +the delights of poesy, and thus dead to the outer world, would have +continued his recitation, and permitted such real, sublunary things as +visitors to pass unheeded. But such a conclusion would not indicate a +very profound acquaintance with the character of Mr. Roundjacket--the +most chivalric and gallant of cavaliers. + +Instead of going on with his poem, he hastily rolled up the +manuscript, thrust it into his desk, and hastening to a small cracked +mirror, which hung over the fire-place, there commenced arranging his +somewhat disordered locks and apparel, with scrupulous care. + +As he finished this hasty toilette, the Apple Orchard carriage drew up +and stopped at the door, and Mr. Roundjacket rushed forth. + +Then any body who would have taken the trouble to look, might have +seen a gentleman opening the door of a chariot with profuse bows, +and smiles, and graceful contortions; and then a lady accepting the +proffered hand with solemn courtesy; and then Mr. Roundjacket might +have been observed leading the lady elegantly into the office. + +"A delightful morning--a _very_ delightful morning, madam," said Mr. +Roundjacket. + +"Yes, sir," said Miss Lavinia, solemnly. + +"And you look in the best of health and spirits, madam." + +"Thank you, sir; I feel very well, and I am glad to think that you are +equally blest." + +"Blest!" said Mr. Roundjacket; "since you came, madam, that may be +very truly said." + +A ghost of a smile lit, so to speak, upon Miss Lavinia's face, and +then flew away. It was very plain that this inveterate man-hater had +not closed her ears entirely to the voice of her enemy. + +Roundjacket saw the impression he had made, and followed it up by +gazing with admiring delight upon his visitor;--whose countenance, as +soon as the solemnity was forgotten, did not by any means repel. + +"It is a very great happiness," said the cavalier, seating himself +on his stool, and, from habit, brandishing his ruler around Miss +Lavinia's head,--"it is a great happiness, madam, when we poor +professional slaves have the pleasure to see one of the divine +sex--one of the ladies of creation, if I may use the phrase. Lawbooks +and papers are--ahem!--very--yes, exceedingly--" + +"Dull?" suggested the lady, fanning herself with a measured movement +of the hand. + +"Oh! worse, worse! These objects, madam, extinguish all poetry, and +gallantry, and elevated feeling in our unhappy breasts." + +"Indeed?" + +"Yes, my dear madam, and after a while we become so dead to all +that is beautiful and charming in existence"--that was from Mr. +Roundjacket's poem--"that we are incapable even of appreciating the +delightful society of the fairest and most exquisite of the opposite +sex." + +Miss Lavinia shook her head with a ghostly smile. + +"I'm afraid you are very gallant, Mr. Roundjacket." + +"I, madam? no, no; I am the coldest and most prosaic of men." + +"But your poem?" + +"You have heard of that?" + +"Yes, indeed, sir." + +"Well, madam, that is but another proof of the fact which I assert." + +"How, indeed?" + +"It is on the prosaic and repulsive subject of the Certiorari." + +And Mr. Roundjacket smiled after such a fashion, that it was +not difficult to perceive the small amount of sincerity in this +declaration. + +Miss Lavinia looked puzzled, and fanned herself more solemnly than +ever. + +"The Certiorari, did you say, sir?" she asked. + +"Yes, madam--one of our legal proceedings; and if you are really +curious, I will read a portion of my unworthy poem to you--ahem!--" + +As Mr. Roundjacket spoke, an overturned chair in the adjoining room +indicated that the occupant of the apartment had been disturbed by the +noise, and was about to oppose the invasion of his rights. + +Roundjacket no sooner heard this, than he restored the poem to his +desk, with a sigh, and said: + +"But you, no doubt, came on business, madam--I delay you--Mr. +Rushton--" + +At the same moment the door of Mr. Rushton's room opened, and that +gentleman made his appearance, shaggy and irate--a frown upon his +brow, and a man-eating expression on his compressed lips. + +The sight of Miss Lavinia slightly removed the wrathful expression, +and Mr. Rushton contented himself with bestowing a dreadful scowl on +Roundjacket, which that gentleman returned, and then counteracted by +an amiable smile. + +Miss Lavinia greeted the lawyer with grave dignity, and said she had +come in, in passing, to consult him about some little matters which +she wished him to arrange for her; and trusted that she found him +disengaged. + +This was said with so much dignity, that Mr. Rushton could not scowl, +and so he invited Miss Lavinia to enter his sanctum, politely leading +the way. + +The lady sailed after him--and the door closed. + +No sooner had she disappeared, than Mr. Roundjacket seized his +ruler, for a moment abandoned, and proceeded to execute innumerable +flourishes toward the adjoining room, for what precise purpose does +not very accurately appear. In the middle of this ceremony, however, +and just as his reflections were about to shape themselves into words, +the front door opened, and Verty made his appearance, joyful and +smiling. + +In his hand Verty carried his old battered violin; at his heels +stalked the grave and dignified Longears. + +"Good morning, Mr. Roundjacket," said Verty, smiling; "how do you do +to-day?" + +"Moderate, moderate, young man," said the gentleman addressed; "you +seem, however, to be at the summit of human felicity." + +"_Anan_?" + +"Don't you know what _felicity_ means, you young savage?" + +"No, sir." + +"It means bliss." + +Verty laughed. + +"What is that?" he said. + +Mr. Roundjacket flourished his ruler, indignantly. + +"Astonishing how dull you are occasionally for such a bright fellow," +he said; "but, after the fashion of all ignoramuses, and as you don't +know what that is, I declare you to be one after the old fashion. You +need illustration. Now, listen." + +Verty sat down tuning his violin, and looking at Mr. Roundjacket, with +a smile. + +"Felicity and bliss are things which spring from poetry and women; +convertible terms, you savage, but often dissevered. Suppose, now, you +wrote a great poem, and read it to the lady of your affections, and +she said it was better than the Iliad of Homer,--how would you feel, +sir?" + +"I don't know," Verty said. + +"You would feel happiness, sir." + +"I don't think I would understand her. Who was Iliad, and what was +Homer?" + +Mr. Roundjacket flourished his ruler, despairingly. + +"You'll never write a poem, and you'll never be in love!" he said, +with solemn emphasis. + +"Oh, you are wrong!" said Verty, laying his violin on the desk, and +caressing Longears. "I think I'm in love now, Mr. Roundjacket!" + +"What?" + +"I'm in love." + +"With whom?" + +"Redbud," said Verty. + +Roundjacket looked at the young man. + +"Redbud Summers?" he said. + +Verty nodded. + +Roundjacket's face was suddenly illuminated with a smile; and he +looked more intently still at Verty. + +"Tell me all about it," he said, with the interest of a lover himself; +"have you had any moonlight, any flowers, music, and that sort of +things?" + +"Oh, yes! we had the flowers!" said Verty. + +"Where?" + +"At old Scowley's." + +"Who's he?" asked Mr. Roundjacket, staring. + +"What!" cried Verty, "don't you know old Scowley?" + +"No." + +"She's Redbud's school-master--I mean school-mistress, of course; and +Mr. Jinks goes to see Miss Sallianna." + +Roundjacket muttered: "Really, a very extraordinary young man." + +Then he added, aloud-- + +"Why do you think you are in love with Redbud?" + +"Because you told me all about it; and I think from what--" + +Just as Verty was going on to explain, the door of Mr. Rushton's room +opened again, and Miss Lavinia came forth. + +She nodded to Verty, and asked him how he was. + +"I'm very well," said the young man, "and I hope you are too, Miss +Lavinia. I saw your carriage at the door, and knew you were in here. +Oh! how tight your hair is curled!" he added, laughing. + +Miss Lavinia drew herself up. + +"I reckon you are going to see Redbud," said Verty. + +Miss Lavinia looked intently at him. + +"Yes," she said. + +"Give my love to her," said the young man, "and tell her I'm coming to +see her very soon--just as quick as I can get off from this dull old +place." + +Which words were accompanied by a smile, directed toward Roundjacket. +As to Miss Lavinia, she stood aghast at Verty's extraordinary +communication, and for some moments could not get words to express her +feelings. + +Finally she said, solemnly-- + +"How--have you been--" + +"To see Redbud, ma'am?" + +"Yes." + +"I've been once," Verty said, "and I'm going again." + +Miss Lavinia's face assumed a dignified expression of reproof, and she +gazed at the young man in silence. This look, however, was far from +daunting him, and he returned it with the most fascinating smile. + +"The fact is, Miss Lavinia," he added, "Redbud wants somebody to talk +to up there. Old Scowley, you know, is'nt agreeable, at least, I +should'nt think she was; and Miss Sallianna is all the time, I reckon, +with Mr. Jinks. I did'nt see any scholars with Redbud; but there ARE +some there, because you know Redbud's pigeon had a paper round his +neck, with some words on it, all about how 'Fanny' had given him to +her; and so there's a 'Fanny' somewhere--don't you think so? But I +forgot, you don't know about the pigeon--do you?" + +Miss Lavinia was completely astounded. "Old Scowley," "Mr. Jinks," +"pigeon," "paper round his neck," and "Fanny,"--all these objects +were inextricably mingled in her unfortunate brain, and she could not +disentangle them from each other, or discover the least clue to the +labyrinth. She, therefore, gazed at Verty with more overwhelming +dignity than ever, and not deigning to make any reply to his rhapsody, +sailed by with a stiff inclination of the head, toward the door. But +Verty was growing gallant under Mr. Roundjacket's teaching. He +rose with great good humor, and accompanied Miss Lavinia to her +carriage--he upon one side, the gallant head clerk on the other--and +politely assisted the lady into her chariot, all the time smiling in a +manner which was pleasant to behold. + +His last words, as the door closed and the chariot drove off, were-- + +"Recollect, Miss Lavinia, please don't forget to give my love to +Redbud!" + +Having impressed this important point upon Miss Lavinia, Verty +returned to the office, with the sighing Roundjacket, humming one of +his old Indian airs, and caressing Longears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +MR. JINKS AT HOME. + + +The young man sat down at his desk, and began to write. But this +occupation did not seem to amuse him, and, in a few moments, he threw +away the pen he was writing with, and demanded another from Mr. +Roundjacket. + +That gentleman complied, and made him a new one. + +Verty wrote for five minutes with the new one; and then split it +deplorably. Mr. Roundjacket heard the noise, and protested against +such carelessness. + +"Oh," sighed Verty, "this writing is a terrible thing to-day; I want a +holiday." + +"There's no holiday in law, sir." + +"Never?" + +"No, never." + +"It's a very slavish thing, then," Verty said. + +"You are not far wrong there, young man," replied his companion; "but +it also has its delights." + +"I have never seen any." + +"You are a savage." + +"I believe I am." + +"Your character is like your costume--barbarous." + +"Yes--Indian," said Verty; "but I just thought, Mr. Roundjacket, of my +new suit. To-day was to be the time for getting it." + +"Very true," said the clerk, laying down his pen, "and as everything +is best done in order, we will go at once." + +Roundjacket opened Mr. Rushton's door, and informed him where he was +going, and for what purpose--a piece of information which was received +with a growl, and various muttered ejaculations. + +Verty had already put on his fur hat. + +"The fact is," said Roundjacket, as they issued forth into the street +of the town, followed by Longears, "the old fellow, yonder, is getting +dreadfully bearish." + +"Is he, sir?" + +"Yes; and every year it increases." + +"I like him, though." + +"You are right, young man--a noble-hearted man is Rushton; but +unfortunate, sir,--unfortunate." + +And Mr. Roundjacket shook his head. + +"How?" + +"That's his secret--not mine," was the reserved reply. + +"Well, I won't ask it, then," Verty said; "I never care to know +anything--there's the tailor's, aint it?" + +"Yes, that is the shop of the knight of the shears," replied the +clerk, with elegant paraphrase; "come, let us get on." + +They soon reached the tailor's, which was not far from the office, on +the same street; and Mr. O'Brallaghan came forward, scissors in hand, +and smiling, like a great ogre, who was going to snip off people's +heads, and eat them for his breakfast--only to satisfy his hunger, not +from any malevolent feeling toward them. Mr. O'Brallaghan, as his name +intimated, was from the Emerald Isle--was six feet high--had a carotty +head, an enormous grinning mouth, and talked with the national accent. +Indeed, so marked was this accent, that, after mature consideration, +we have determined not to report any of this gentleman's +remarks--naturally distrustful as we are of our ability to represent +the tone in which they were uttered, with any degree of accuracy. We +shall not see him frequently, however, and may omit his observations +without much impropriety. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan surveyed Verty's lythe and well-knit figure, clad in +its rude forest costume, with patronizing favor. But when Roundjacket +informed him, with hauteur, that "his friend, Mr. Verty," would give +him an order for three suits:--one plain, one handsome, one very +rich--the great O'Brallaghan became supple and polite; and evidently +regarded Mr. Verty as some young lord, in disguise. + +He requested the young man to walk into the inner room, where his +artist would take his measure; and this Verty did at once. + +Imagine his surprise at finding himself in the presence of--Mr. Jinks! + +Mr. Jinks, no longer clad in elegant and martial costume, redolent +equally of the ball-room and the battle-field--no longer moving +majestically onward with wide-stretched legs, against which his +warlike sword made dreadful music--no longer decorated with rosettes, +and ruffles, and embroidery; but seated on the counter, in an old +dressing-gown, with slipper'd feet and lacklustre eyes, driving his +rapid needle through the cloth with savage and intrepid spirit. + +Verty did not recognize him immediately; and Mr. Jinks did not observe +the new comers either. + +An exclamation from the young man, however, attracted his attention, +and he started up. + +"Mr. O'Brallaghan!" cried the knight of the needle, if we may so far +plagiarize upon Roundjacket's paraphrase--"Mr. O'Brallaghan! this is +contrary to our contract, sir. It was understood, sir, that I should +be private, sir,--and I am invaded here by a route of people, sir, in +violation of that understanding, sir!" + +The emphasis with which Mr. Jinks uttered the various "sirs," in this +address, was terrible. O'Brallaghan was evidently daunted by them. + +"You know I am a great artist in the cutting line, sir," said Mr. +Jinks, with dignity; "and that nobody can do your fine work but me, +sir. You know I have the right to mature my conceptions in private, +sir,--and that circumstances of another description render this +privacy desirable, sir! And yet, sir, you intrude upon me, sir,--you +intrude! How do you do, young man?--I recognize you," added Mr. Jinks, +slightly calmed by his victory over O'Brallaghan, who only muttered +his sentiments in original Gaelic, and bore the storm without further +reply. + +"I will, for once, break my rule," said Mr. Jinks, magnanimously, "and +do for this gentleman, who is my friend, what I will do for no other. +Henceforth, sir, recollect that I have rights;" and Mr. Jinks frowned; +then he added to Verty, "Young man, have the goodness to stand upon +that bench." + +O'Brallaghan and Roundjacket retreated to the outer room, where they +were, soon after, joined by Verty, who was laughing. + +"Well," muttered the young man, "I will not tell anybody that +Mr. Jinks sews, if he don't want it to be known--especially Miss +Sallianna. I reckon he is right--women don't like to see men do +anything better than them, as Mr. Jinks says." + +And Verty began to admire a plum-colored coat which was lying on the +counter. + +"I like this," he said. + +O'Brallaghan grew eloquent on the plum-colored coat--asserting that it +was a portion of a suit made for one of his most elegant customers, +but not sent for. He could, however, dispose of it to Mr. Verty, if he +wished to have it--there was time to make another for the aforesaid +elegant customer. + +Verty tried the coat on, and O'Brallaghan declared, enthusiastically, +that it fitted him "bewchously." + +Mr. Roundjacket informed Verty that it would be better to get the +suit, if it fitted, inasmuch as O'Brallaghan would probably take +double the time he promised to make his proper suit in--an observation +which O'Brallaghan repelled with indignation; and so the consequence +was, that a quarter of an hour afterwards Roundjacket and Verty issued +forth--the appearance of the latter having undergone a remarkable +change. + +Certainly no one would have recognized Verty at the first glance. He +was clad in a complete cavalier's suit--embroidered coat-ruffles and +long flapped waistcoat--with knee-breeches, stockings of the same +material, and glossy shoes with high red heels, and fluttering +rosettes; a cocked hat surmounted his curling hair, and altogether +Verty resembled a courtier, and walked like a boy on stilts. + +Roundjacket laughed in his sleeve at his companion's contortions, +and on their way back stopped at the barber and surgeon's. This +professional gentleman clipped Verty's profuse curls, gathered them +together carefully behind, and tied them with a handsome bow of +scarlet ribbon. Then he powdered the boy's fine glossy hair, and held +a mirror before him. + +"Oh! I'm a great deal better looking now," said Verty; "the fact is, +Mr. Roundjacket, my hair was too long." + +To this Mr. Roundjacket assented, and they returned, laughing, to the +office. + +Verty looked over his shoulder, and admired himself with all the +innocence of a child or a savage. One thing only was disagreeable to +him--the high heels which Mr. O'Brallaghan had supplied him with. +Accustomed to his moccasins, the heels were not to be endured; and +Verty kicked both of them off against the stone steps with great +composure. Having accomplished this feat, he re-entered. + +"I'm easier now," he said. + +"About what?" + +"The heels." + +Mr. Roundjacket looked down. + +"I could'nt walk on 'em, and knocked 'em off," Verty said. + +Mr. Roundjacket uttered a suppressed chuckle; then stopping suddenly, +observed with dignity:-- + +"Young man, that was very wrong in you. Mr. Rushton has made you a +present of that costume, and you should not injure it; he will be +displeased, sir." + +"I will be nothing of the sort," said a growling voice; and turning +round, the clerk found himself opposite to Mr. Rushton, who was +looking at Verty with a grim smile. + +"Kick away just as you please, my young savage," said that gentleman, +"and don't mind this stuff from Roundjacket, who don't know civilized +from Indian character. Do just as you choose." + +"May I?" said Verty. + +"Am I to repeat everything?" + +"Well, sir, I choose to have a holiday this morning." + +"Hum!" + +"You said I might do as I wanted to, and I want to go and take a +ride." + +"Well, go then--much of a lawyer you'll ever make." + +Verty laughed, and turning towards Longears, called him. But Longears +hesitated--looking with the most profound astonishment at his master. + +"He don't know me!" said the young man, laughing; "I don't think he'll +hunt if I wear these, sir." + +But Mr. Rushton had retired, and Verty only heard a door slam. + +He rose. + +"I'm going to see Redbud, Mr. Roundjacket," he said, "and I think +she'll like my dress--good-bye." + +Roundjacket only replied by flourishing his ruler. + +Verty put on his cocked hat, admired himself for an instant in the +mirror over the fire-place, and went out humming his eternal Indian +song. Five minutes afterwards he was on his way to see Redbud, +followed dubiously by Longears, who evidently had not made up his mind +on the subject of his master's identity. + +In order to explain the reception which Verty met with, it will be +necessary to precede him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +HOW MISS LAVINIA DEVELOPED HER THEORIES UPON MATRIMONY. + + +The Apple Orchard carriage, containing the solemn Miss Lavinia, very +soon arrived at the abode of old Scowley, as our friend Verty was +accustomed to call the respectable preceptress of Miss Redbud; and +Miss Lavinia descended and entered with solemn dignity. + +Miss Sallianna and herself exchanged elaborate curtseys, and Miss +Lavinia sailed into the pleasant sylvan parlor and took her seat +reverely. + +"Our dear little girls are amusing themselves this morning," said +Miss Sallianna, inclining her head upon one shoulder, and raising her +smiling eyes toward the ceiling; "the youthful mind, my dear madam, +requires relaxation, and we do not force it." + +Miss Lavinia uttered a dignified "hem," and passed her handkerchief +solemnly over her lips. + +"In this abode of the graces and rural sublunaries," continued Miss +Sallianna, gently flirting her fan, "our young friends seem to lead a +very happy life." + +"Yes--I suppose so." + +"Indeed, madam, I may say the time passes for them in a golden cadence +of salubrious delights," said Miss Sallianna. + +Her visitor inclined her head. + +"If we could only exclude completely all thoughts of the opposite +sex--" + +Miss Lavinia listened with some interest to this peroration. "If we +could live far from the vain world of man--" + +The solemn head indicated a coincidence of opinion. + +"If we could but dedicate ourselves wholly to the care of our little +flock, we should be felicitous," continued Miss Sallianna. "But, alas! +they will come to see us, madam, and we cannot exclude the dangerous +enemy. I am often obliged to send word that I am not 'at home' to the +beaux, and yet that is very cruel. But duty is my guide, and I bow to +its bequests." + +With which words, Miss Sallianna fixed her eyes resignedly upon +the ceiling, and was silent. If Miss Lavinia had labored under the +impression that Miss Sallianna designed to utter any complaints about +Redbud, she did not show that such had been her expectation. She +only bowed and said, politely, that if her little cousin Redbud was +disengaged, she should like to see her. + +"Oh yes! she is disengaged," said Miss Sallianna, with a languishing +smile; "the dear child has been roaming over the garden and around the +ensuing hills since the first appearance of the radiant orb of Sol, +madam. I think such perambulations healthy." + +Miss Lavinia said that she agreed with her. + +"Reddy, as I call your lovely little niece--your cousin, eh?--is one +of my most cherished pupils, madam; and I discover in her so many +charming criterions of excellence, that I am sure she will grow up an +object of interest to everybody. There she is out on the lawn. I will +call her, madam, and if you would dispense with my society for a short +time, I will again return, and we will discuss my favorite subject, +the beauties of nature." + +Miss Lavinia having, by a solemn movement of the head, indicated her +willingness to languish without her hostess' society for a short +period, Miss Sallianna rose, and made her exit from the apartment, +with upraised eyes and gently smiling lips. + +Five minutes afterwards Redbud ran in, laughing and rosy-cheeked. + +"Oh, cousin Lavinia!" she cried, "I'm so glad to see you!" + +Miss Lavinia enclosed her young relation in a dignified embrace, and +kissed her solemnly. + +"I am very glad to see you looking so well, Redbud," she said, +indicating a cricket at her feet, upon which Miss Redbud accordingly +seated herself. I have not been able before to come and see you, but +Miss Scowley gives me excellent accounts of you." + +"Does she!" laughed Redbud. + +"Yes." + +Redbud laughed again. + +"What is the cause of your amusement?" said Miss Lavinia. + +"Oh, I only meant that she told everybody who came, that everybody was +good." + +"Hum!" + +"She does," said Redbud. + +"Then you mean that you do not deserve her praise?" + +"Oh, I did'nt mean that, cousin Lavinia! I'm very glad she likes me. I +want everybody to like me. But it's true." + +"I believe you are good, Redbud," Miss Lavinia said, calmly. + +"I hope so, ma'am." + +"Are you happy here?" + +"Oh yes, ma'am--except that I would like to be at home to see you +all." + +"Do you miss us?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" + +Miss Lavinia cleared her throat, and began to revolve her address to +be delivered. + +"You do not see us very often, Redbud," she said,--"I mean myself and +your father--but from what I have heard this morning, that young man +Verty still visits you." + +Redbud colored, and did not reply. + +Miss Lavinia's face assumed an expression of mingled severity and +dignity, and she said to the girl: + +"Redbud, I am sorry you do not observe the advice I gave you,--of +course, I have no right to command you, and you are now growing old +enough to act for yourself in these things. You are nearly seventeen, +and are growing to be a woman. But I fear you are deficient in +resolution, and still encourage the visits of this young man." + +Poor Redbud was silent--she could not deny the accusation. + +Miss Lavinia looked at her with grim affection, and said: + +"I hope, Redbud, that, in future, you will be more careful. I am sorry +to be compelled to say it--but Verty is not a proper person for you +to remain upon such intimate and confidential terms with. He has good +qualities, and is very sensible and kind-hearted; but he is a mere +Indian, and cannot have anything in common with one so much his +superior in station, as yourself." + +"Oh, ma'am--!" began Redbud. + +"Speak plainly," said Miss Lavinia; "do not be afraid." + +"I was only going to say that I am not superior to Verty," Redbud +added, with tears in her eyes; "he is so good, and kind, and sincere." + +"You misunderstand me--I did not mean that he was not a proper +companion for you, as far as his character went; for, I say again, +that his character is perfectly good. But--child that you are!--you +cannot comprehend yet that something more is wanting--that Verty is an +Indian, and of unknown parentage." + +Poor Redbud struggled to follow Miss Lavinia's meaning. + +"I see that I must speak plainly," said that lady, solemnly, "and I +will commence by saying, Redbud, that the whole male sex are always +engaged in endeavoring to make an impression on the hearts of the +other sex. The object to which every young man, without exception, +dedicates his life, is to gain the ascendancy over the heart of some +young person of the opposite sex; and they well know that when this +ascendancy is gained, breaking it is often more than human power can +accomplish. Young girls should carefully avoid all this, and should +always remember that the intimacies formed in early life, last, +generally, throughout their whole existence." + +Redbud looked down, and felt a strong disposition to wipe her eyes. + +Miss Lavinia proceeded, like an ancient oracle, impassible and +infallible. + +"Now, I mean, Redbud," she said, "that while Verty may be, and no +doubt is, all that you could wish in a friend, you still ought not to +encourage him, and continue your injudicious friendship. Far be it +from me to insist upon the necessity of classes in the community, and +the impropriety of marrying those who are uncongenial in taste and +habit, and--" + +"Marrying, ma'am!" exclaimed Redbud--then she stopped. + +"Yes, Redbud," said Miss Lavinia, with dignity, "and nothing will +persuade me that this young man has not conceived the design of +marrying you. I do not say, mind me, that he is actuated by unworthy +motives--I have no right to. I do not believe that this young man has +ever reflected that Apple Orchard, a very fine estate, will some day +be yours. I only say that, like all youths, he has set his heart upon +possessing your hand, and that he is not a proper husband for you." + +Having uttered this downright and unmistakeable opinion, Miss Lavinia +raised her head with dignity, and smoothed down her silk dress with +solemn grace. + +As to poor Redbud, she could only lean her head on her hand, and +endeavor to suppress her gathering tears. + +"Verty is an Indian, and a young man of obscure birth--wholly +uneducated, and, generally speaking, a savage, though a harmless one," +said the lady, returning to the charge. "Now, Redbud, you cannot fail +to perceive that it is impossible for you to marry an Indian whom +nobody knows anything about. Your family have claims upon you, and +these you cannot disregard, and unite yourself to one of an inferior +race, who--" + +"Oh, cousin Lavinia! cousin Lavinia!" cried Redbud, with a gush of +tears, "please don't talk to me anymore about this; you make me feel +so badly! Verty never said a word to me about marrying, and it would +be foolish. Marry! Oh! you know I am nothing but a child, and you make +me very unhappy by talking so." + +Redbud leaned her forehead on her hand, and wiped away the tears +running down her cheeks. + +"It is not agreeable to me to mention this subject," Miss Lavinia +said, solemnly, smoothing Redbud's disordered hair, "but I consider it +my duty, child. You have said truly that you are still very young, and +that it is ridiculous to talk about your being married. But, Redbud, +the day will come when you will be a woman, and then you will find +this intimacy with Verty a stone around your neck. I wish to warn you +in time. These early friendships are only productive of suffering, +when in course of time they must be dissolved. I wish to ward off this +suffering from you!" + +"Oh, ma'am!" sobbed Redbud. + +"I love you very much." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"And as I have more experience than you," said Miss Lavinia, +grimly--"more knowledge of the wiles of men, I consider it my duty to +direct your conduct." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud, seeing the wall closing round her +inexorably. + +"If, then, you would spare Verty suffering, as well as yourself, you +will gradually place your relations on a different basis." + +"On--a--dif--ferent--basis," said Redbud; "Yes, ma'am." + +"It may be done," said Miss Lavinia; "and do not understand me, child, +to counsel an abrupt and violent breaking off of all the ties between +yourself and this young man." + +"No, ma'am." + +"You may do it gradually; make your demeanor toward him calmer at +every interview--if he must come--do not have so many confidential +conversations--never call him 'Verty'"-- + +"Oh, ma'am!" said Redbud, "but I can't call him Mr. Verty." + +"Don't call him anything," said the astute enemy of the male sex, "and +gradually add 'sir' to the end of your observations. In this manner, +Redbud, you may place your relations on an entirely different +footing." + +"Yes, ma'am!" + +Miss Lavinia looked at the child for some moments with a singular +expression of commiseration. Then smoothing the small head again, she +said more softly:-- + +"What I advise is for your own good, Redbud. I only aim at your +happiness. Pursue the plan I have indicated, and whenever you can, +avoid this young man--as you will both suffer. Men, men," murmured +Miss Lavinia, "they are our masters, and ask nothing better than that +delightful tribute to their power--a broken heart." + +"Yes, yes, Redbud," said the solemn lady, rising, "this advice I have +given you is well worthy of your attention. Both you and this young +man will undergo cruel suffering if you persist in your present +relations. I will say no more. I have done my duty, and I am sure you +will not think that I am actuated by old-maidish scruples, and have +made a bugbear for myself. I love you, Redbud, as well as I love any +one in the world, and all I have said is for your good. Now I must +go." + +And Miss Lavinia solemnly enclosed the weeping girl in her arms, and +returned to her carriage. Before her sailed Miss Sallianna, smiling +and languishing--her eyes upon the sky, and uttering the most +elegant compliments. These were received by Miss Lavinia with grave +politeness; and finally the two ladies inclined their heads to each +other, and the carriage drove off toward Winchester, followed by +Redbud's eye. That young lady was standing at the window, refusing to +be comforted by her friend Fanny--who had given her the pigeon, it +will be remembered--and obstinately bent on proving to herself that +she was the most wretched young lady who had ever existed. + +Meanwhile Miss Lavinia continued her way, gazing in a dignified +attitude from the window of her carriage. Just as she reached the +bottom of the hill, what was her horror to perceive a cavalier +approach from the opposite direction--an elegant cavalier, mounted on +a shaggy horse, and followed by a long-eared hound--in whose richly +clad person she recognized the whilom forest boy. + +Miss Lavinia held up both her hands, and uttered an exclamation of +horror. + +As to Verty, he passed rapidly, with a fascinating smile, saying, as +he disappeared:-- + +"I hope you gave my love to Redbud, Miss Lavinia!" + +Miss Lavinia could only gasp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ONLY A FEW TEARS. + + +The theories of Miss Lavinia upon life and matrimony had so much truth +in them, in spite of the address and peculiarities of the opinions +upon which they were based, that Redbud was compelled to acknowledge +their justness; and, as a consequence of this acknowledgment, to shape +her future demeanor toward the young man in conformity with the advice +of her mentor. + +Therefore, when Miss Redbud saw Verty approach, clad in his new +costume, and radiant with happy expectation, she hastily left the +window at which she had been standing, and, in the depths of her +chamber, sought for strength and consolation. + +Let no one deride the innocent prayer of the child, and say that it +was folly, and unworthy of her. The woes of youth are not our woes, +and the iron mace which strikes down the stalwart man, falls not more +heavily upon his strong shoulders, than does the straw which bears to +the earth the weak heart of childhood. + +Then, when the man frowns, and clenches his hand against the hostile +fate pressing upon him, the child only weeps, and endeavors to avoid +the suffering. + +Redbud suffered no little. She loved Verty very sincerely as the +playmate of her earlier years, and the confidential friend of her +happiest hours. The feeling which was ripening in her heart had not +yet revealed itself, and she felt that the barrier now raised between +herself and the young man was cruel. But, then, suddenly, she would +recollect Miss Lavinia's words, recall that warning, that they +both would suffer--and so poor Redbud was very unhappy--very much +confused--not at all like herself. + +We have said very little of this child's character, preferring rather +to let the current of our narrative reflect her pure features from +its surface, as it flowed on through those old border days which were +illustrated and adorned by the soft music of her voice, the kindness +of her smile. Perhaps, however, this is a favorable occasion to lay +before the reader what was written by a poor pen, in after years, +about the child, by one who had loved, and been rendered purer by +her. Some one, no matter who, had said to him one day--"Tell me about +little Redbud, whom you praise so much"--and he had taken his pen and +written-- + +"How can I? There are some figures that cannot be painted, as there +are some melodies which cannot be uttered by the softest wind which +ever swept the harp of Aeolus. You can scarcely delineate a star, and +the glories of the sunset die away, and live not upon canvas. How +difficult, then, the task you have imposed upon me, _amigo mio_--to +seal up in a wicker flask that moonlight; chain down, by words, that +flitting and almost imperceptible perfume--to tell you anything about +that music which, embodied in a material form, was known as Redbud! + +"Observe how I linger on the threshold, and strive to evade what I +have promised to perform. What can I say of the little friend who made +so many of my hours pure sunshine? She was the most graceful creature +I have ever seen, I think, and surely merrier lips and eyes were never +seen--eyes very blue and soft--hair golden, and flowing like sunset on +her shoulders--a mouth which had a charming archness in it--and withal +an innocence and modesty which made one purer. These were the first +traits of the child, she was scarcely more, which struck a stranger. +But she grew in beauty as you conversed with her. She had the most +delightful voice I have ever heard--the kindest and most tender smile; +and one could not long be in her company without feeling that good +fortune had at last thrown him with one of those pure beings which +seem to be sent down to the earth, from time to time, to show us, poor +work-a-day mortals, that there are scales of existence, links as it +were, between the inhabitants of this world and the angels: for the +heavenly goodness, which sent into the circle which I lived in such +a pure ray of the dawn, to verify and illumine the pathway of my +life--thanks--thanks! + +"How beautiful and graceful she was! When she ran along, singing, her +fair golden locks rippling back from her pure brow and rosy cheeks, +I thought a sunbeam came and went with her. The secret of Redbud's +universal popularity--for everybody loved her--was, undoubtedly, +that love which she felt for every one around her. There was so +much tenderness and kindness in her heart, that it shone in her +countenance, and spoke plainly in her eyes. Upon the lips, what a +guileless innocence and softness!--in the kind, frank eyes, what +all-embracing love for God's creatures everywhere! She would not tread +upon a worm; and I recollect to this day, what an agony of tears she +fell into upon one occasion, when some boys killed the young of an +oriole, and the poor bird sat singing its soul away for grief upon the +poplar. + +"Redbud had a strong vein of piety in her character; and this crowning +grace gave to her an inexpressible charm. Whatever men may say, there +are few who do not reverence, and hope to find in those they love, +this feeling. The world is a hard school, and men must strike alone +everywhere. In the struggle, it is almost impossible to prevent the +mind from gathering those bitter experiences which soil it. It is so +hard not to hate so tremendous a task, to strangle that harsh and +acrid emotion of contempt, which is so apt to subdue us, and make the +mind the hue of what it works in, 'like the dyer's hand.' Men feel the +necessity of something purer than themselves, on which to lean; and +this they find in woman, with the nutriment I have spoken of--the +piety of this child. It did not make her grave, but cheerful; and +nothing could be imagined more delightful, than her smiles and +laughter. Sometimes, it is true, you might perceive upon her brow +what resembled the shadow of a cloud floating over the bright autumn +fields--and in her eyes a thoughtful dew, which made them swim, +veiling their light from you; but this was seldom. As I have spoken of +her, such she was--a bright spirit, who seemed to scatter around her +joy and laughter, gilding all the world she lived in with the kindness +of her smiles. + +"Such, _amigo mio_, was little Redbud when I knew her; and I have +spoken of her as well as I could. No one can be more conscious of the +insufficiency of my outline than myself. My only excuse is, a want of +that faculty of the brain which--uniting memory, that is to say, the +heart, with criticism, which is the intellect--is able to embody with +the lips, or the pen, such figures as have appeared upon the horizon +of life. I can only say that I never went near the child, but I was +made better by her sincere voice. I never took her hand in my own, but +a nameless influence seemed to enter into my heart, and purify it. And +now, _amigo_, I have written it all, and you may laugh at me for my +pains; but that is not a matter of very great importance. Farewell!" + +It is rather an anti-climax, after this somewhat practical account of +our little heroine, to inform the reader that Redbud was sitting down, +crying. Such was, however, the fact; and as conscientious historians +we cannot conceal it. Overwhelmed by Miss Lavinia's fatal logic, she +had no choice, no course but one to pursue--to avoid Verty, and thus +ward off that prospective "suffering;" and so, with a swelling heart +and a heated brain, our little heroine could find no better resource +than tears, and sobs, and sighs. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +HOW MISS FANNY SLAMMED THE DOOR IN VERTY'S FACE. + + +As Redbud sat thus disconsolate, a footstep in the apartment attracted +her attention, and raising her tearful eyes, she saw her friend Fanny, +who had run in, laughing, as was her wont. Fanny was a handsome little +brunette, about Redbud's age, and full of merriment and glee--perhaps +_sparkle_ would be the better word, inasmuch as this young lady always +seemed to be upon the verge of laughter--brim full with it, and ready +to overflow, like a goblet of Bohemian glass filled with the "foaming +draught of eastern France," if we may be permitted to make so unworthy +a comparison. Her merry black eyes were now dancing, and her ebon +curls rippled from her smooth dark brow like midnight waves. + +"Oh! here's your beau, Reddy!" cried Miss Fanny, clapping her hands; +"you pretended not to know him as he came up the hill. Make haste! you +never saw such an elegant cavalier as he has made himself!" + +Redbud only smiled sadly, and turned away her head. + +Miss Fanny attributed this manoeuvre to a feeling very different from +the real one; and clapping her hands more joyfully than ever, cried: + +"There you are! I believe you are going to pretend he ain't your beau! +But you need not, madam. As if I did'nt know all about it--" + +"Oh, Fanny!" murmured poor Redbud. + +"Come! no secrets from me! That old Miss Lavinia has treated you +badly, I know; I don't know how, but she made you cry, and I will not +have anything to say to her, if she _is_ your cousin. Forget all about +it, Reddy, and make haste down, Verty is waiting for you--and oh! he's +so elegant. I never saw a nicer fellow, and you know I always thought +he was handsome. I would set my cap at him," said Miss Fanny, with a +womanly air, "if it was'nt for you." + +Redbud only murmured something. + +"Come on!" cried Fanny, trying to raise her friend forcibly, "I tell +you Verty is waiting, and you are only losing so much talk; they never +_will_ let our beaux stay long enough, and as to-day's holiday, you +will have a nice chat. My cousin Ralph, you know, is coming to see me +to-day, and we can have such a nice walk out on the hill--come on, +Reddy! we'll have such a fine time!" + +Suddenly Miss Fanny caught sight of the tears in Redbud's eyes, and +stopped. + +"What! crying yet at that old Miss Lavinia!" she said; "how can you +mind her so!" + +"Oh! I'm very unhappy!" said poor Redbud, bursting into tears; her +self-control had given away at last. "Don't mind me, Fanny, but I +can't help it--please don't talk any more about Verty, or walking out, +or anything." + +Fanny looked at her friend for a moment, and the deep sadness on +Redbud's face banished all her laughter. + +"Why not talk about him?" she said, sitting down by Redbud. + +"Because I can't see him any more." + +"Can't see him!" + +"No--not to-day." + +"Why?" + +Redbud wiped her eyes. + +"Because--because--oh! I can't tell you, Fanny!--I can't--it's +wrong in cousin Lavinia!--I know it is!--I never meant--oh! I am so +unhappy!" + +And Redbud ended by bursting into a flood of tears, which caused the +impulsive and sympathetic Fanny, whose lips had for some moments been +twitching nervously, to do the same. + +"Don't cry, Fanny--please don't cry!" said Redbud. + +"I'm not crying!" said Miss Fanny, shedding floods of tears--"I'm not +sorry--I'm mad with Miss Lavinia for making _you_ cry; I hate her!" + +"Oh!" sobbed Redbud, "that is very wrong." + +"I don't care." + +"She's my cousin." + +"No matter! She had no business coming here and making you unhappy." + +With which Miss Fanny sniffed, if that very inelegant word may be +applied to any action performed by so elegant a young lady. + +"Yes! she had no business--the old cat!" continued the impulsive +Fanny, "and I feel as if I could scratch her eyes out!--to make you +cry!" + +"But I won't any more," said Redbud, beginning afresh. + +"And I will stop, too," said Fanny, becoming hysterical. + +After which solemn determination to be calm, and not display any +further emotion on any account, the two young ladies, sinking into +each other's arms, cried until their white handkerchiefs were +completely wetted by their tears. + +They had just managed to suppress their emotion somewhat--preparatory +to commencing again, doubtless--when the door of the apartment opened, +and a servant girl announced to Miss Redbud that a gentleman had +come to see her, and was waiting for that purpose at the foot of the +stairs. + +"Oh! I can't see him," said Redbud, threatening a new shower. + +"You shall!" said Fanny, laughing through her tears. + +"Oh, no! no!" said Redbud. + +"What shall I tell 'um, Miss," said the servant? + +"Oh, I can't go down--tell Verty that--" + +"She'll be down in a minute," finished Fanny. + +"No, no, I must not!" + +"You shall!" + +"Fanny--!" + +"Come, no nonsense, Reddy! there! I hear his voice--oh, me! my +goodness gracious!" + +These sudden and apparently remarkable exclamations may probably +appear mysterious and without reason to the respected readers who do +us the honor to peruse our history; but they were in reality not at +all extraordinary under the circumstances, and were, indeed, just what +might have been expected, on the generally accepted theories of cause +and effect. + +In a single word, then, the lively Miss Fanny had uttered the emphatic +words, "Oh, me!--my goodness gracious!" because she had heard upon the +staircase the noise of a masculine footstep, and caught sight of a +masculine cocked-hat ascending;--which phenomenon, arguing again upon +the theories of cause and effect, plainly indicated that a head was +under the chapeau--the head of one of the opposite sex. + +Redbud raised her head quickly at her friend's exclamation, and +discerned the reason therefor. She understood, at a glance, that Verty +had become impatient, waiting in the hall down stairs;--bad heard her +voice from the room above; and, following his wont at Apple Orchard, +quite innocently bethought himself of saving Redbud the trouble of +descending, by ascending to her. + +Verty sent his voice before him--a laughing and jubilant voice, which +asked for Redbud. + +Fanny jumped up and ran to the door, just as the young man placed his +foot upon the landing, and stood before the group. + +Verty made a low bow, and greeted Miss Fanny with one of the most +fascinating smiles which could possibly be imagined. Fanny slammed the +door in his face, without the least hesitation. + +For a moment, Verty stood motionless and bewildered, vainly striving +to make out what this extraordinary occurrence meant. At Apple +Orchard, as we have said, the doors had never been slammed in his +face. On the contrary, he had ranged freely over the mansion, amusing +himself as seemed best to him: taking down a volume here--opening a +closet there--strolling into the Squire's room, or Redbud's room, +where that young lady was studying--and even into the apartment of the +dreadful Miss Lavinia, where sat that solemn lady, engaged in the task +of keeping the household wardrobe, stockings, and what not, in good +condition. No one had ever told Verty that there was the least +impropriety in this proceeding; and now, when he only meant to do what +he had done a thousand times before, he had a door banged in his face, +as if he were a thief with hostile intentions toward the spoons. + +For some moments, therefore, as we have said, the young man stood +thunderstruck and motionless. Then, considering the whole affair a +joke, he began to laugh; and essayed to open the door. + +In vain. Fanny, possibly foreseeing this, had turned the key. + +"Redbud!" said Verty. + +"Sir?" said a voice; not Redbud's, however. + +"Let me in." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," replied the voice. + +"Why?" said Verty, with ready philosophy; "it's nobody but me." + +"Hum!" said the voice again, in indignant protest against the force of +any such reasoning. + +"You are not Redbud," continued the cavalier; "I want to see Redbud." + +"Well, sir,--go down, and Reddy may come and see you," the voice +replied; "as long as you stand there, you will not lay eyes on her--if +you stay a week, or a year." + +At this dreadful threat, Verty retreated from the door. The idea of +not seeing Redbud for a year was horrible. + +"Will you come down, Redbud, if I go?" he asked. + +Voices heard in debate. + +"Say?" said Verty. + +After a pause, the voice which had before spoken, said: + +"Yes; go down and wait ten minutes." + +Verty heaved a sigh, and slowly descended to the hall again. As he +disappeared, the door opened, and the face of Fanny was seen carefully +watching the enemy's retreat. Then the young girl turned to Redbud, +and, clapping her hands, cried: + +"Did you ever!--what an impudent fellow! But you promised, Reddy! +Come, let me fix your hair!" + +Redbud sighed, and assented. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IN WHICH REDBUD SUPPRESSES HER FEELINGS AND BEHAVES WITH DECORUM. + + +In ten minutes, as she promised, Fanny descended with Redbud,--her arm +laced around the slender waist of that young lady, as is the wont +with damsels,--and ready to give battle to our friend Verty, upon any +additional provocation, with even greater zest than before. + +Redbud presented a singular contrast to her companion. Fanny, smiling, +and full of glee, seemed only to have become merrier and brighter +for her "cry"--like an April landscape after a rain. Redbud, on the +contrary, was still sad, and oppressed from the events of the morning; +and, indeed, could scarcely return Verty's greeting without emotion. + +Resplendent in his elegant plum-colored coat--with stockings, long +embroidered waistcoat, and scarlet ribbon tied around his powdered +hair, Verty came forward to meet his innamorata, as joyous and +careless as ever, and, figuratively speaking, with open arms. + +What was his surprise to find that no smile replied to his own. +Redbud's face was calm--almost cold; she repelled him even when he +held out his hand, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, which, +for any warmth or motion in them, might have been wood or marble. + +Poor Verty drew back, and colored. Redbud change toward him!--no +longer care for him! What could this frigid manner with which she +met him, mean;--why this cool and distant bow, in reply to his +enthusiastic greeting? + +Poor Verty sat down disconsolately, gazing at Redbud. He could not +understand. Then his glance questioned Miss Fanny, who sat with a prim +and demure affectation of stateliness, on the opposite side of the +room. There was no explanation here either. + +While Verty was thus gazing silently, and with growing embarrassment, +at the two young girls, Redbud, with a beating heart, and trembling +lips, played with the tassel of the sofa-cushion, and studied the +figure of the carpet. + +Fanny came to the rescue of the expiring conversation, and seizing +forcibly upon the topic of the weather, inserted that useful wedge +into the rapidly closing crack, and waited for Verty to strike the +first blow. + +Unfortunately, Verty did not hear her; he was gazing at Redbud. + +Fanny pouted, and tossed her head. So she was not good enough for the +elegant Mr. Verty!--she was not even worth a reply! He might talk +himself, then! + +Verty did not embrace this tacit permission--he remained silent; and +gazing on Redbud, whose color began slowly to rise, as with heaving +bosom and down-cast eyes she felt the young man's look--he experienced +more and more embarrassment--a sentiment which began to give way to +distress. + +At last he rose, and going to her side, took her hand. + +Redbud slowly drew it away, still without meeting his gaze. + +He asked, in a low voice, if she was angry with him. + +No--she was not very well to-day; that was all. + +And then the long lashes drooped still more with the heavy drops which +weighed them down; the cheeks were covered with a deeper crimson; +the slender frame became still more agitated. Oh! nothing but those +words--"if you would prevent him from suffering"--could bear her +through this trying interview: they were enough, however--she would be +strong. + +And as she came to this determination, Redbud nearly sobbed--the full +cup very nearly ran over with its freight of tears. With a beseeching, +pleading glance, she appealed to Fanny to come to her assistance. + +Such an appeal is never in vain; the free-masonry of the sex has no +unworthy members. Fanny forgot in a moment her "miff" with Verty, when +she saw that for some reason Redbud was very nearly ready to burst +into tears, and wished to have the young man's attention called away +from her; she no longer remembered the slight to herself, which had +made her toss her head, and vow that she would not open her lips +again; she came to the rescue, as women always do, and with the most +winning smile, demanded of Mr. Verty whether he would be so kind as to +do her a slight favor? + +The young man sighed, and moved his head indifferently. Fanny did not +choose to see the expression, and positively beaming with smiles, all +directed, like a sheaf of arrows, full upon the gentleman, pushed the +point of her slipper from the skirt of her dress, and said she would +be exceedingly obliged to Mr. Verty, if he would fasten the ribbon +which had become loose. + +Of course, Verty had to comply. He rose, sighing more than ever, and +crossing the room, knelt down to secure the rebellious ribbon. + +No sooner had he knelt, than Miss Fanny made a movement which +attracted Redbud's attention. Their eyes met, and Fanny saw that her +friend was almost exhausted with emotion. The impulsive girl's eyes +filled as she looked at Redbud; with a smile, however, and with the +rapidity and skill of young ladies at public schools, she spelled +something upon her fingers, grazing as she went through the quick +motions, the head of Verty, who was bending over the slipper. + +Fanny had said, in this sly way: "Say you are sick--indeed you +are!--you'll cry!" + +Verty rose just as she finished, and Miss Fanny, with negligent ease, +thanked him, and looked out of the window. Verty turned again toward +Redbud. She was standing up--one hand resting upon the arm of the +sofa, from which she had risen, the other placed upon her heart, as if +to still its tumultuous beating. + +Verty's troubled glance fled to the tender, sorrowful face, and asked +why she had risen. Redbud, suppressing her emotion by a powerful +effort, said, almost coldly, that she felt unwell, and hoped he would +let her go up stairs. Indeed, (with a trembling voice), she was--not +well: he must excuse her; if--if--if he would--come again. + +And finding her voice failing her, poor Redbud abruptly left the room, +and running to her chamber, threw herself on the bed, and burst into a +passion of tears. + +She had obeyed Miss Lavinia. + +Yes! with a throbbing heart, eyes full of tears, a tenderness toward +her boy-playmate she had never felt before, she had preserved her +calmness. Crying was not wrong she hoped--and that was left her. + +So the child cried, and cried, until nature exhausted herself, and +rested. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +HOW MISS SALLIANNA FELL IN LOVE WITH VERTY. + + +Verty stood for a moment gazing at the door through which Redbud had +disappeared, unable to speak or move. Astonishment, compassion, love, +distress, by turns filled his mind; and standing there, on a fine +October morning, the young man, with the clear sunshine streaming on +him joyfully, took his first lesson in human distress--a knowledge +which all must acquire at some period of their lives, sooner or later. +His mixture of emotions may be easily explained. He was astonished at +the extraordinary change in Redbud's whole demeanor; he felt deep pity +for the sickness which she had pleaded as an excuse for leaving him. +Love and distress clasped hands in his agitated heart, as he threw a +backward glance over the short interview which they had just held--and +all these feelings mingling together, and struggling each for the +mastery, made the young man's bosom heave, his forehead cloud over, +and his lips shake with deep, melancholy sighs. + +Utterly unable to explain the coldness which Redbud had undoubtedly +exhibited, he could only suffer in silence. + +Then, after some moments' thought, the idea occurred to him that Miss +Fanny--the smiling, obliging, the agreeable Miss Fanny--might clear +up the mystery, so he turned round toward her; but as he did so, the +young girl passed by him with stately dignity, and requesting, in a +cold tone, to be excused, as she was going to attend to her friend, +Miss Summers, sailed out of the room and disappeared. + +Verty looked after her with deeper astonishment than before. Then +everybody disliked him--everybody avoided him: no doubt he had been +guilty of some terrible fault toward Redbud, and her friend knew it, +and would not stay in his presence. + +What could that fault be? Not his costume--not the attempt he had +made to intrude upon her privacy. Certainly Redbud never would have +punished him so cruelly for such trifling things as these, conceding +that they were distasteful to her. + +What, then, could be the meaning of all this? + +Just as he asked himself the question for the sixth time, there +appeared at the door of the apartment no less a personage than Miss +Sallianna, who, ambling into the room with that portion of the head +which we have more than once mentioned, and the lackadaisical smile +which was habitual with her, approached Verty, and graciously extended +her yellow hand. + +The young man took the extended member, and made a bow. Miss Sallianna +received it with a still more gracious smile, and asked Mr. Verty to +be seated. + +He shook his head. + +"I must go away, ma'am," he said, sadly; "Redbud has quarrelled with +me, and I cannot stay. Oh! what have I done to cause this!" + +And Verty's head sank upon his bosom, and his lips trembled. + +Miss Sallianna gazed at him with a curious smile, and after a moment's +silence, said: + +"Suppose you sit down for a minute, Mr. Verty, and tell me all about +this--this--highly intrinsic occurrence. You could not repose your +sorrows in a more sympathetic bosom than my own." + +And subsiding gracefully upon the sofa, Miss Sallianna made Verty sit +by her, and even gently moved her fan before his face, smiling and +simpering. + +Perhaps the reader may feel some surprise at the change in Miss +Sallianna's demeanor toward the young man, the fact of whose existence +she had scarcely noticed on the occasion of their first meeting in the +garden. The explanation will be neither lengthy nor difficult. Miss +Sallianna was one of those ladies who have so profound an admiration +for nature, beauty, love, and everything elevated and ennobling, +that they are fond of discussing these topics with the opposite +sex--exchanging ideas, and comparing opinions, no doubt for the +purpose of arriving at sound conclusions upon these interesting +subjects. If, in the course of these conversations, the general +discussion became particular and personal--if, in a word, the +gentleman was induced to regard the lady as an example of the beauties +they were talking about, in nature, love, etc., Miss Sallianna did not +complain, and even seemed somewhat pleased thereof. Of course there +would have been no profit or entertainment in discussing these +recondite subjects with a savage such as Verty had appeared to be upon +their former interview, when, with his long, tangled hair, hunter's +garb, and old slouched hat, he resembled an inhabitant of the +backwoods--what could such a personage know of divine philosophy, +or what pleasure could a lady take in his society?--no pleasure, +evidently. But now that was all changed. The young gentleman now +presented a civilized appearance; he was plainly becoming more +cultivated, and his education, Miss Sallianna argued, should not be +neglected by his lady acquaintances. Who wonders at such reasoning? +Is this the only instance which has ever been known? Do sentimental +ladies of an uncertain age always refuse to take charge of the growing +hearts of innocent and handsome youths, just becoming initiated in the +mysteries of the tender passion? Or do they not most willingly assume +the onerous duty of directing the _naive_ instincts of such youthful +cavaliers into proper channels and toward worthy objects--even +occasionally, from their elevated regard, present themselves as the +said "worthy objects" for the youthful affection? Queenly and most +lovely dames of uncertain age, and tender instincts, it is not +the present chronicler who will so far forget his reputation for +gallantry, as to assert that "I should like to marry" is your favorite +madrigal. + +Therefore let it be distinctly understood and remembered, as a +thing necessary and indispensable to the true comprehension of this +veracious history, that the beautiful Miss Sallianna was not attracted +by Verty's handsome dress, his fashionable coat, rosetted shoes, well +powdered hair, or embroidered waistcoat gently rubbing against the +spotless frill--that these things did not enter into her mind when she +resolved to attach the young man to her suit, and turn his affection +and "esteem" toward herself. By no means;--she saw in him only a +handsome young fellow, whose education could not prosper under the +supervision of such a mere child as Redbud; and thus she found herself +called upon to superintend it in her proper person, and for that +purpose now designed to commence initiating the youthful cavalier into +the science of the heart without delay. + +These few words may probably serve to explain the unusual favor with +which Miss Sallianna seemed to regard Verty--the _empressement_ with +which she gently fanned his agitated brow--the fascinating smile which +she threw upon him, a smile which seemed to say, "Come! confide your +sorrows to a sympathizing heart." + +Verty, preoccupied with his sad reflections, for some moments remained +silent. Miss Sallianna broke the pause by saying-- + +"You seem to be annoyed by something, Mr. Verty. Need I repeat that +in me you will find a friend of philosophic partiality and undue +influence to repose your confidential secrets in?" + +Verty sighed. + +"Oh! that is a bad sign," said the lady, simpering. + +"What, ma'am?" asked Verty, raising his head. + +"That sigh." + +"I don't feel very well." + +"In the body or the mind?" + +"I suppose it's the mind, ma'am." + +"Don't call me ma'am--I am not so much your senior. True, the various +experiences I have extracted from the circumambient universe render +me somewhat more thoughtful, but my heart is very young," said Miss +Sallianna, simpering, and slaying Verty with her eyes. + +"Yes, ma'am--I mean Miss Sallianna," he said. + +"Ah! that is better. Now let us converse about nature, my friend--" + +"If you could tell me why Redbud has--" + +Verty stopped. He had an undeveloped idea that the subject of nature +and Redbud might not appear to have any connection with each other in +the mind of Miss Sallianna. + +But that lady smiled. + +"About Redbud?" she asked, with a languishing glance. + +"Yes--Miss." + +"What of the dear child?--have you fallen out? You men must not mind +the follies of such children--and Reddy is a mere child. I should not +think she could appreciate you." + +Verty was silent; he did not know exactly what _appreciate_ meant, +which may serve as a further proof of what we have said above, in +relation to the necessity which Miss Sallianna felt she labored under, +as a tender-hearted woman, to educate Verty. + +The lady seemed to understand from her companion's countenance, that +he did not exactly comprehend the signification of her words; but as +this had occurred on other occasions, and with other persons, she felt +no surprise at the circumstance, attributing it, as was natural, +to her own extreme cultivation and philological proficiency. She +therefore smiled, and still gently agitating the fan before Verty, +repeated: + +"Have you and Redbud fallen out?" + +"Yes," said the young man. + +"Concerning what?" + +"I don't know--I mean Redbud has quarreled with me." + +"Indeed!" + +Verty replied with a sigh. + +"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "make a confidant of me, and confide your +feelings to a heart which beats responsive to your own." + +With which words the lady ogled Verty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE RESULT. + + +Verty looked at Miss Sallianna, and sighed more deeply than he +had ever sighed before. The lady's face was full of the tenderest +interest; it seemed to say, that with its possessor all secrets were +sacred, and that nothing but the purest friendship, and a desire to +serve unhappy personages, influenced her. + +Who wonders, therefore, that Verty began to think that it would be a +vast relief to him to have a confidant--that his inexperience needed +advice and counsel--that the lady who now offered to guide him through +the maze in which he was confounded and lost, knew all about the +labyrinths, and from the close association with the object of his +love, could adapt her counsel to the peculiar circumstances, better +than any one else in the wide world? Besides, Verty was a lover, and +when did lover yet fail to experience the most vehement desire to pour +into the bosom of some sympathizing friend--of either sex--the story +of his feelings and his hopes? It is no answer to this, that, in the +present instance, the lover was almost ignorant of the fact, that +he loved, and had no well-defined hopes of any description. That is +nothing to your true Corydon. Not in the least. Will he not discourse +with rising and kindling eloquence upon everything connected with his +Phillis? Will not the ribbons on her bodice, and the lace around her +neck, become the most important and delightful objects of discursive +commentary?--the very fluttering rosettes which burn upon her little +instep, and the pearls which glitter in her powdered hair, be of more +interest than the fall of thrones? So Corydon, the lover, dreams, and +dreams--and if you approach him in the forest-glade, he sighs and +talks to you, till evening reddens in the west, about Phillis, only +Phillis. And as the old Arcady lives still, and did at the time of our +history, so Corydons were ready to illustrate it, and our young friend +Verty felt the old pastoral desire to talk about his shepherdess, and +embrace Miss Sallianna's invitation to confide his sorrows to her +respective bosom. + +"Come now, my dear Mr. Verty," repeated that lady, "tell me what all +this means--are you in love, can it be--not with Reddy?" + +"Yes, ma'am, I believe I am," said Verty, yielding to his love. "Oh, +I know I am. I would die for her whenever she wanted me to--indeed I +would." + +"Hum!" said Miss Sallianna. + +"You know she is so beautiful and good--she's the best and dearest +girl that ever lived, and I was so happy before she treated me coldly +this morning! I'll never be happy any more!" + +"Cannot you banish her false image?" + +"False! she's as true as the stars! Oh, Redbud is not false! she is +too good and kind!" + +Miss Sallianna shook her head. + +"You have too high an opinion of the sex at large, I fear, Mr. Verty," +she said; "some of them are very inconstant; you had better not trust +Redbud." + +"Not trust her!" + +"Be careful, I mean." + +"How can I!" cried Verty. + +"Easily." + +"Be careful? I don't know what you mean, Miss Sallianna; but I suppose +what you say is for my good." + +"Oh yes, indeed." + +"But I can't keep still, and watch and listen, and spy out about +anybody I love so much as Redbud--for I'm certain now that I love her. +Oh, no! I must trust her--trust her in everything! Why should I not? I +have known her, Miss Sallianna, for years, and years--we were brought +up together, and we have gone hand in hand through the woods, +gathering flowers, and down by the run to play, and she has showed me +how to read and write, and she gave me a Bible; and everything which I +recollect has something in it about Redbud--only Redbud--so beautiful, +and kind, and good. Oh, Miss Sallianna, how could I be careful, and +watch, and think Redbud's smiles were not here! I could not--I would +rather die!" + +And Verty's head sank upon his hands which covered the ingenuous +blushes of boyhood and first love. In this advanced age of the world, +we can pity and laugh at this romantic nonsense--let us be thankful. + +Miss Sallianna listened with great equanimity to this outburst, and +smiling, and gently fanning Verty, said, when he had ceased speaking: + +"Don't agitate yourself, my dear friend. I suspected this. +You misunderstand my paternal counsel in suggesting to you a +suspicionative exemplification of dear little Reddy. Darling child! +she is very good; but remember that we cannot always control our +feelings." + +Verty raised his head, inquiringly. + +"You do not understand?" + +"No, ma'am," he said; "I mean, Miss--" + +"No matter--you'll get into the habit," said the lady, with a +languishing smile; "I meant to observe, my dear friend, that Reddy +might be very good, and I suppose she is--and she might have had a +great and instructive affection for you at one period; but you know we +cannot control our sentiments, and Reddy has probably fancied herself +in love with somebody else." + +Verty started, and half rose. + +"In love with somebody else?" he cried. + +"Yes," said the lady, smiling. + +"Oh, no, no!" murmured the young man, falling again into his seat. + +Miss Sallianna nodded. + +"Mind now--I do not assert it," she said; "I only say that these +children--I mean young girls at Reddy's age--are very apt to take +fancies; and then they get tired of the youths they have known well, +and will hardly speak to them. Human nature is of derisive and +touching interest, Mr. Verty," sighed the lady, "you must not expect +to find Reddy an exception. She is not perfect." + +"Oh yes, she is!" murmured poor Verty, thinking of Redbud's dreadful +change, and yet battling for her to the last with the loyal +extravagance of a true lover; "she would not--she could not--deceive +me." + +"I do not say she would." + +"But--" + +"I know what you are about to observe, sir; but, remember that the +heart is not in our power entirely"--here Miss Sallianna sighed, and +threw a languishing glance upon Verty. "No doubt Reddy loved you; +indeed, at the risk of deeming to flatter you, Mr. Verty--though I +never flatter--I must say, that it would have been very extraordinary +if Reddy had _not_ fallen in love with you, as you are so smart and +handsome. Recollect this is not flattery. I was going on to say, that +Reddy _must_ have loved you, but that does not show that she loves you +now. We cannot compress our sentiments; and Diana, Mr. Verty, the god +of love, throws his darts when we are not looking--ah!" + +Which last word of Miss Sallianna's speech represents a sigh she +uttered, as, after the manner of Diana, she darted a fatal arrow from +her eyes, at Verty. It did not slay him, however, and he only murmured +wofully, + +"Do you mean Reddy has changed, then, ma'am? Oh, what will become of +me--what shall I do!" + +Miss Sallianna threw a glance, so much more languishing than the +former, upon her companion, that had his heart not been wrapped in +Redbud, it certainly would have been pierced. + +"Follow her example," simpered Miss Sallianna, looking down with +blushing cheeks, and picking at her fan with an air of girlish +innocence. "Could you not do as she has done--and--choose--another +object yourself?" + +And Miss Sallianna raised her eyes, bashfully, to Verty's face, then +cast them with maidenly modesty upon the carpet. + +"No, ma'am," said Verty, thoughtfully, and quite ignorant of the +deadly attack designed by the fair lady upon his heart--"I don't think +I could change." + +In these simple words the honest Verty answered all. + +"Why not?" simpered the lady. + +"Because I don't think Redbud is in love with anybody else," he said; +"I know she is not!" + +"Why, then, has she treated you so badly?" said Miss Sallianna, +gradually forgetting her bashfulness, and reassuming her languishing +air and manner--"there must be some laborious circumstance, Mr. +Verty." + +Verty pressed his head with his hand, and was silent. All at once +a brighter light illumined the fair lady's face, and she addressed +herself to speak, first uttering a modest cough-- + +"Suppose I suggest a plan of finding out, sir," she said; "we might +find easily." + +"Oh, ma'am! how?" + +"Will you follow my advice?" + +"Yes, ma'am--of course. I mean if it's right. Excuse me, I did not +mean--what was your advice, ma'am?" stammered Verty. + +The lady smiled, and did not seem at all offended at Verty's +qualification. + +"It may appear singular to you at first," Miss Sallianna said; "but +my advice is, that you appear to make love--to pay attentions +to--somebody else for a short time." + +"Attentions, ma'am?" + +"Seem to like some other lady better than Redbud." + +"Oh, but that would not be right." + +"Why?" + +"Because I don't." + +Miss Sallianna smiled. + +"I don't want you to change at all, Mr. Verty," she said; "only to +take this _modus addendi_, which is the Greek for _way_,--to take this +way to find out. I would not advise it, of course, if it was wrong, +and it is the best thing you could do, indeed." + +Verty strongly combated this plan, but was met at every turn, by Miss +Sallianna, with ready logic; and the result, as is almost always the +case when men have the temerity to argue with ladies, was a total +defeat. Verty was convinced, or _talked obtuse_ upon the subject, and +with many misgivings, acquiesced in Miss Sallianna's plan. + +That lady then went on in a sly and careful manner--possibly +_diplomatic_ would be the polite word--to suggest herself as the most +proper object of Verty's experiment. He might make love to her if he +wished--she would not be offended. He might even kiss her hand, and +kneel to her, and perform any other gallant ceremony he fancied--she +would make allowances, and not become angry if he even proceeded so +far as to write her billet-doux, and ask her hand in a matrimonial +point of view. Miss Sallianna wound up by saying, that it would be an +affair of rare and opprobrious interest; and, as a comedy, would be +positively deleterious, which was probably a _lapsus linguae_ for +"delicious." + +So when Verty rose to take his departure, he was a captive to Miss +Sallianna's bow and spear; or more accurately, to her fan and tongue: +and had promised to come on the very next day, after school hours, and +commence the amusing trial of Reddy's affections. The lady tapped him +with her fan, smiled languidly, and rolled up her eyes--Verty bowed, +and took his leave of her. + +He mounted Cloud, and calling Longears, took his way sadly toward +town. Could he not look back and see those tender eyes following him +from the lattice of Redbud's room--and blessing him? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +OF THE EFFECT OF VERTY'S VIOLIN-PLAYING UPON MR. RUSHTON. + + +The young man had just reached the foot of the hill, upon which the +Bower of Nature stood--have we not mentioned before the name which +Miss Sallianna had bestowed upon the seminary?--when he heard himself +accosted by a laughing and careless voice, and raised his head, to see +from whom it proceeded. + +The voice, apparently, issued from a gentleman who had drawn rein in +the middle of the road, and was gazing at him with great good +humor and freedom. Verty returned this gaze, and the result of his +inspection was, that the new-comer was a total stranger to him. He was +a young man of about nineteen, with handsome features, characterized +by an expression of nonchalance and careless good humor; clad in a +very rich dress, somewhat foppish, but of irreproachable taste; +and the horse he bestrode was an animal as elegant in figure and +appointments as his master. + +"Hallo, friend!" the new-comer had said, "give you good-day." + +Verty nodded. + +"You don't recognize me," said the young man. + +"I believe not," replied Verty. + +"Well, that's all right; and it would be strange if you did," the +young man went on in his careless voice; "we have never met, I think, +and, faith! all I recognize about you is my coat." + +"Your coat?" + +"Coat, did I say?--worse than that! I recognize my knee-breeches, my +stockings, my chapeau, my waistcoat!" + +And the new-comer burst into a careless laugh. + +Verty shook his head. + +"They are mine, sir," he said. + +"You are mistaken." + +Verty returned the careless glance with one which seemed to indicate +that he was not very well pleased. + +"How?" he said. + +"I maintain that you are wearing my clothes, by Jove! Come, let us +fight it out;--or no! I've got an engagement, my dear fellow, and we +must put it off. Fanny is waiting for me, and would be dying with +disappointment if I didn't come." + +With which the young fellow touched his horse, and commenced humming a +song. + +"Fanny?" said Verty, with a sad smile, "what! up at old Scowley's?" + +"The very place! Why, you have caught the very form of words by which +I am myself accustomed to speak of that respectable matron." + +"I know Miss Fanny." + +"Do you?" + +"Yes." + +"Stop!" said the young man, laughing with his easy nonchalance; "tell +me if we are rivals." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Are you in love with her? Honor bright now, my dear fellow?" + +"No," said Verty, drawn, he did not know how, toward the laughing +young man; "no, not with--Miss Fanny." + +"Ah, ah!--then with whom? Not the lovely Sallianna--the admirer of +nature? Faith! you're too good-looking a fellow to throw yourself +away on such a simpering old maid. By Jove! my dear friend, and +new acquaintance, I like you! Let us be friends. My name's Ralph +Ashley--I'm Fanny's cousin. Come! confidence for confidence!" + +Verty smiled. + +"My name is Verty," he said; "I havn't any other--I'm an Indian." + +"An Indian!" + +"Yes." + +"Is it possible?" + +Verty nodded. + +"Why, you are an elegant cavalier, or the devil take it! I'm just +from Williamsburg--from the college there; and I never saw a finer +_seigneur_ than yourself, friend Verty. An Indian!" + +"That's all," said Verty; "the new clothes change me. I got 'em at +O'Brallaghan's." + +"O'Brallaghan's? The rascal! to sell my suit! That accounts for all! +But I don't complain of you. On the contrary, I'm delighted to make +your acquaintance. Have you been up there?--I suppose you have?" + +And the young man pointed toward the Bower of Nature. + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"Visiting?" + +"Yes--Redbud." + +"Pretty little Miss Summers?" + +Verty heaved a profound sigh, and said, "Yes." + +The young man shook his head. + +"Take care, my dear fellow," he said, with a wise air, "I saw her in +town the other morning, and I consider her dangerous. She would not be +dangerous to me; I am an old bird among the charming young damsels of +this wicked world, and, consequently, not to be caught by chaff--such +chaff as brilliant eyes, and rosy-cheeks, and smiles; but, without +being critical, my dear friend, I may be permitted to observe, that +you look confiding. Take care--it is the advice of a friend. Come and +see me at Bousch's tavern where I am staying, if my visnomy has made +a favorable impression--Ah! there's Fanny! I must fly to her--the +charming infant." + +And the young man gave a farewell nod to Verty, and went on singing, +and making signs to the distant Fanny. + +Verty gazed after him for a moment; then heaving another sigh much +more profound than any which had yet issued from his lips, went slowly +on toward the town--his shoulders drooping, his arms hanging down, his +eyes intently engaged in staring vacancy out of countenance. If we are +asked how it happened that the merry, joyous Verty, whose face was +before all sunshine, now resembled nobody so much as some young +and handsome Don Quixote, reflecting on the obduracy of his Toboso +Dulcinea, we can only reply, that Verty was in love, and had not +prospered lately--that is to say, on that particular day, in his suit; +and, in consequence, felt as if the world no longer held any more joy +or light for him, forever. + +With that bad taste which characterizes the victims of this delusion, +he could not consent to supply the place of the chosen object of his +love with any other image; and even regarded the classic and +romantic Miss Sallianna as wholly unworthy to supplant Redbud in his +affections. Youth is proverbially unreasonable and fastidious on these +subjects, and Verty, with the true folly of a young man, could not +discern in Miss Sallianna those thousand graces and attractions, +linguistic, philosophical, historical and scientific, which made her +so far superior to the child with whom he had played, and committed +the folly of falling in love with. So he went along sighing, with his +arms hanging down, as we have said, and his shoulders drooping; and in +this melancholy guise, reached the office of Judge Rushton. + +He found Mr. Roundjacket still driving away with his pen, only +stopping at intervals to flourish his ruler, or to cast an +affectionate glance upon the MS. of his great poem, which, gracefully +tied with red tape arranged in a magnificent bow, lay by him on the +desk. + +On Verty's entrance the poet raised his head, and looked at him +curiously. + +"Well, my fine fellow," he said, "what luck in your wooing? You look +as wo-begone as the individual who drew Priam's curtain at the dead of +night. Come! my young savage, why are you so sad?" + +Verty sat down, murmuring something. + +"Speak out!" said Mr. Roundjacket, wiping his pen. + +"I'm not very sad," Verty replied, looking perfectly +disconsolate--"what made you think so, Mr. Roundjacket?" + +"Your physiognomy, my young friend. Are you happy with such a face as +that?' + +"Such a face?" + +"Yes; I tell you that you look as if you had just parted with all your +hopes--as if some adverse fate had deprived you of the privilege of +living in this temple of Thespis and the muses. You could not look +more doleful if I had threatened never to read any more of my great +poem to you." + +"Couldn't?" said Verty, listlessly. + +"No." + +The young man only replied with a sigh. + +"There it is--you are groaning. Come; have you quarreled with your +mistress?" + +Verty colored, and his head sank. + +"Please don't ask me, sir," he said; "I have not been very happy +to-day--everything has gone wrong. I had better get to my work, +sir,--I may forget it." + +And with a look of profound discouragement, which seemed to be +reflected in the sympathizing face of Longears, who had stretched +himself at his master's feet and now lay gazing at him, Verty opened +the record he had been copying, and began to write. + +Roundjacket looked at him for a moment in silence, and then, with +an expression of affection and pity, which made his grotesque face +absolutely handsome, muttered something to himself, and followed +Verty's example. + +When Roundjacket commenced writing, he did so with the regularity +and accuracy of a machine which is set in motion by the turning of +a crank, and goes on until it is stopped. This was the case on the +present occasion, and Verty seemed as earnestly engaged in his own +particular task. But appearances are deceptive--Indian nature will not +take the curb like Anglo-Saxon--and a glance over Verty's shoulders +will reveal the species of occupation which he became engaged in after +finishing ten lines of the law paper. + +He was tracing with melancholy interest a picture upon the sheet +beneath his pen; and this was a lovely little design of a young girl, +with smiling lips, kind, tender eyes, and cheeks which were round and +beautiful with mirth. With a stroke of the pen Verty added the waving +hair, brushed back _a la Pompadour_ the foam of lace around the neck, +and the golden drop in the little ear. Redbud looked at you from the +paper, with her modest eyes and smiles--and for a moment Verty gazed +at the creation of his pencil, sighing mournfully. + +Then, with a deeper sigh than before, he drew beneath this another +sketch--the same head, but very different. The eyes now were cold +and half closed--the lips were close together, and seemed almost +disdainful--and as the gentle bending forward in the first design was +full of pleasant _abandon_ and graceful kindness, so the head in the +present sketch had that erect and frigid carriage which indicates +displeasure. + +Verty covered his eyes with his hand, and leaning down upon the desk, +was silent and motionless, except that a stifled sigh would at times +issue from his lips, a sad heaving of his breast indicate the nature +of his thoughts. + +Longears rose, and coming to his master, wagged his tail, and asked, +with his mute but intelligent glance, what had happened. + +Verty felt the dog lick his hand, and rose from his recumbent posture. + +"Yes, yes, Longears," he murmured, "I can't help showing it--even you +know that I am not happy." + +And with listless hands he took up the old violin which lay upon +his desk and touched the strings. The sound died away in trembling +waves--Roundjacket continued writing. + +Verty, without appearing to be conscious of what he was doing, took +the bow of the violin, and placing the instrument upon his shoulder, +leaned his ear down to it, and drew the hair over the strings. A long, +sad monotone floated through the room. + +Roundjacket wrote on. + +Verty, with his eyes fixed on vacancy, his lips sorrowfully listless, +his frame drooping more and more, began to play a low, sad air, which +sounded like a sigh. + +Roundjacket raised his head, and looked at the musician. + +Verty leaned more and more upon his instrument, listening to it as +to some one speaking to him, his eyes closed, his bosom heaving, his +under lip compressed sorrowfully as he dreamed. + +Roundjacket was just about to call upon Verty to cease his savage and +outrageous conduct, or Mr. Rushton, who was in the other room, would +soon issue forth and revenge such a dreadful violation of law office +propriety, when the door of that gentleman's sanctum opened, and he +appeared upon the threshold. + +But far from bearing any resemblance to the picture of the poet's +imagination--instead of standing mute with rage, and annihilating the +musician with a horrible scowl from beneath his shaggy and frowning +brows, Mr. Rushton presented a perfect picture of softness and +emotion. His head bending forward, his eyes half closed and filled +with an imperceptible mist, his whole manner quiet, and sad, and +subdued, he seemed to hang upon the long-drawn sighing of the violin, +and take a mournful pleasure in its utterances. + +Verty's hand passed more and more slowly backward and forward--the +music became still more affecting, and passing from thoughtfulness +to sadness, and from sadness to passionate regret, it died away in a +wail. + +He felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned round. Mr. Rushton, with +moist eyes and trembling lips, was gazing at him. + +"Do not play that any more, young man," he said, in a low tone, "it +distresses me." + +"Distresses you, sir?" said Verty. + +"Yes." + +"What? 'Lullaby?'" + +"Yes," muttered the lawyer. + +Verty's sad eyes inquired the meaning of so singular a fact, but Mr. +Rushton did not indulge this curiosity. + +"Enough," he said, with more calmness, as he turned away, "it is not +proper for you to play the violin here in business hours; but above +all, never again play that music--I cannot endure the memories it +arouses--enough." + +And retiring slowly, Mr. Rushton disappeared, closing the door of his +room behind him. + +Verty followed him with his eyes until he was no longer visible, then +turned toward Mr. Roundjacket for an explanation. That gentleman +seemed to understand this mute interrogation, but only shook his head. + +Therefore Verty returned to his work, sadly laying aside the two +sketches of Redbud, and selecting another sheet to copy the record +upon. By the time he had finished one page, Mr. Roundjacket rose from +his desk, stretched himself, and announced that office hours were +over, and he would seek his surburban cottage, where this gentleman +lived in bachelor misery. Verty said he was tired, too; and before +long had told Mr. Roundjacket good-bye, and mounted Cloud. + +With Longears at his side, soberly walking in imitation of the horse, +Verty went along toward his home in the hills, gazing upon the golden +west, and thinking still of Redbud. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +A YOUNG GENTLEMAN, JUST FROM WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE. + + +Instead of following Verty, who, like most lovers, is very far from +being an amusing personage, let us go back and accompany Mr. Ralph +Ashley, on his way to the Bower of Nature, where our young friend +Fanny awaits him; and if these scenes and characters also fail to +entertain us, we may at least be sure that they are from the book of +human nature--a volume whose lightest chapters and most frivolous +illustrations are not beneath the attention of the wisest. If this +were not true, the present chronicler would never be guilty of the +folly of expending his time and ink upon such details as go to make up +this true history; it would be lost labor, were not the flower and the +blade of grass, the very thistle down upon the breeze, each and all, +as wonderful as the grand forests of the splendid tropics. What +character or human deed is too small or trivial for study? Never did a +great writer utter truer philosophy than when he said: + + "Say not 'a small event!' Why 'small?' + Costs it more pains than this, ye call + A 'great event,' shall come to pass, + Than that? Untwine me from the mass + Of deeds which make up life, one deed + Power shall fall short in, or exceed!" + +And now after this philosophical dissertation upon human life and +actions, we may proceed to narrate the visit of Mr. Ralph Ashley, +graduate of Williamsburg, and cousin of Miss Fanny, to the Bower of +Nature, and its inmates. + +Fanny was at the door when he dismounted, and awaited the young +gentleman with some blushes, and a large amount of laughter. + +This laughter was probably directed toward the somewhat dandified +costume of the young gentleman, and he was not long left in the dark +upon this point. + +"How d'ye do, my dearest Fanny," said Mr. Ralph Ashley, hastening +forward, and holding out his arms; "let us embrace!" + +"Humph!" said Fanny; "indeed you shan't!" + +"Shan't what--kiss you?" + +"Yes, sir: you shall do nothing of the sort!" + +"Wrong!--here goes!" + +And before Miss Fanny could make her retreat, Ralph Ashley, Esq., +caught that young lady in his arms, and impressed a salute upon her +lips, so remarkably enthusiastic, that it resembled the discharge of +a pistol. Perhaps we are wrong in saying that it was imprinted on +his cousin's lips, inasmuch as Miss Fanny, though incapacitated +from releasing herself, could still turn her head, and she always +maintained that nothing but her cheek suffered. On this point we +cannot be sure, and therefore leave the question undecided. + +Of one fact, however, there can be no doubt--namely, that Mr. Ralph +Ashley received, almost immediately, a vigorous salute of another +description upon the cheek, from Miss Fanny's open hand--a salute +which caused his face to assume the most girlish bloom, and his eyes +to suddenly fill with tears. + +"By Jove! you've got an arm!" said the cavalier, admiringly. "Come, my +charming child--why did you treat me so cruelly?" + +"Why did you kiss me? Impudence!" + +"That's just what young ladies always say," replied her cavalier, +philosophically; "whatever they like, they are sure to call impudent." + +"Like?" + +"Yes, like! Do you pretend to say that you are not complimented by a +salute from such an elegant gentleman as myself?" + +"Oh, of course!" said Miss Fanny, satirically. + +"Then the element of natural affection--of consanguinity--has its due +weight no doubt, my dearest. I am your cousin." + +"What of that, man?" + +"Everything! Don't you know that in this reputable province, called +Virginia, blood goes a great way? Cousins are invariably favorites." + +"You are very much mistaken, sir," said Fanny. + +"There it is--you girls always deny it, and always believe it," said +Mr. Ralph, philosophically. "Now, you would die for me." + +"Die, indeed!" + +"Would'nt you?" + +"Fiddlesticks!" + +"That's an impressive observation, and there's no doubt about your +meaning, though the original signification, the philological origin of +the phrase, is somewhat cloudy. You won't expire for me, then?" + +"No!" + +"Then live for me, delight of my existence!" said Mr. Ralph Ashley, +with a languishing glance, and clasping his hands romantically as he +spoke; "live for one, whose heart is wrapped in thee!" + +Miss Fanny's sense of the ludicrous was strong, and this pathetic +appeal caused her to burst into laughter. + +"More ridiculous than ever, as I live!" she cried, "though I thought +that was impossible." + +"Did you?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Ashley gently twined a lock around his finger, and assuming a +foppish air, replied: + +"I don't know whether you thought it impossible for me to become more +ridiculous; but you can't help confessing, my own Fanny, that you +doubted whether I could grow more fascinating." + +Fanny's lip curled. + +"Oh, yes!" she said. + +"Come--don't deny what was perfectly plain--it won't do." + +"Deny--?" + +"That you were desperately in love with me, and that I was your +sweetheart, as the children say." + +And Mr. Ralph gently caressed the downy covering of his chin, and +smiled. + +"What a conceited thing you are," said Fanny, laughing; "you are +outrageous." + +And having uttered this opinion, Miss Fanny's eyes suddenly fell, and +her merry cheek colored. The truth was simply, that Ralph had been a +frank, good-humored, gallant boy, and the neighbors _had_ said, that +he was Fanny's "sweetheart;" and the remembrance of this former +imputation now embarrassed the nearly-grown-up young lady. No one +could remain embarrassed in Mr. Ralph's society long however; there +was so much careless ease in his demeanor, that it was contagious, +and so Fanny in a moment had regained all her self-possession, and +returned the languishing glances of her admirer with her habitual +expression of satirical humor. + +"Yes, perfectly outrageous!" she said; "and college has positively +ruined you--you cannot deny it." + +"Ruined me?" + +"Wholly." + +"On the contrary, it has greatly improved me, my dearest." + +And Ralph sat down on the trellised portico, stretching out his +elegant rosetted shoes, and laughing. + +"I am not your dearest," said Fanny; "that is not my name." + +"You are mistaken! But come, sit by me: I'm just in the mood to talk." + +"No! I don't think I will." + +"Pray do." + +"No," said Fanny, shaking her head coquettishly, "I'll stand while +your lordship discourses." + +"You positively shan't!" + +And with these words, the young man grasped Miss Fanny's long +streaming hair-ribbon, and gently drew it toward him, laughing. + +Fanny cried out. Ralph laughed more than ever. + +There was but one alternative left for the young girl. She must either +see her elegantly bound up raven locks deprived of their confining +ribbon, and so fall in wild disorder, or she must obey the command +of the enemy, and sit quietly beside him. True, there was the third +course of becoming angry, and raising her head with dignified hauteur. +But this course had its objections--it would not do to quarrel with +her cousin and former playmate immediately upon his return; and again +the movement of the head, which we have indicated, would have been +attended by consequences exceedingly disastrous. + +Therefore, as Ralph continued to draw toward him gently the scarlet +ribbon, with many smiles and admiring glances, Miss Fanny gradually +approached the seat, and finally sat down. + +"There, sir!" she said, pouting, "I hope you are satisfied!" + +"Perfectly; the fact is, my sweet Fanny, I never was anything else +_but_ satisfied with _you_! I always was fascinated with you." + +"That's one of the things which you were taught at college, I +suppose." + +"What?" + +"Making pretty speeches." + +"No, they didn't teach that, by Jove! Nothing but wretched Latin, +Greek and Mathematics--things, evidently, of far less importance than +the art you mention." + +"Oh! of course." + +"And the reason is plain. A gentleman never uses the one after he +leaves college, and lays them by with the crabbed books that +teach them; while the art of compliment is always useful and +agreeable--especially agreeable to young ladies of your exceedingly +juvenile age--is't not?" + +"Very agreeable." + +"I know it is; and when a woman descends to it, and flatters a +man--ah! my dear Fanny, there's no hope for him. I am a melancholy +instance." + +"You!" laughed Fanny, who had regained her good-humor. + +"Yes; you know Williamsburg has many other things to recommend it +besides the college." + +"What things?" + +"Pretty girls." + +"Oh! indeed." + +"Yes, and I assure you I did not neglect the opportunity of +prosecuting my favorite study--the female character. Don't interrupt +me--your character is no longer a study to me." + +"I am very glad, sir." + +"I made you out long ago--like the rest of your sex, you are, of +course, very nearly angelic, but still have your faults." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"All true--but about Williamsburg--I was, I say, a melancholy sample +of the effect produced by a kind and friendly speech from a lady. +Observe, that the said speech was perfectly commonplace, and sprung, +I'm sure, from the speaker's general amiability; and yet, what must I +do, but go and fall in love with her." + +"Oh!" from Fanny. + +"Yes--true as truth itself; and, as a consequence, my friends, for +the first, and only time, had a good joke against me. They had a tale +about my going to his Excellency, the Governor's palace, to look at +the great map there--all for the purpose of finding where the country +was in which she lived; for, observe, she was only on a visit to +Williamsburg--of studying out this boundary, and that--this river to +cross, and that place to stop at,--the time it would take to carry my +affections over them--and all the thousand details. Of course, this +was not true, my darling Fanny, at least--" + +"Ralph, you shall stop talking to me like a child!" exclaimed Fanny, +who had listened to the details of Mr. Ashley's passion with more and +more constraint; "please to remember that I am not a baby, sir." + +Ralph looked at the lovely face, with its rosy-cheeks and flashing +eyes, and burst out laughing. + +"There, you are as angry as Cleopatra, when the slave brought her bad +news--and, by Jove, Fanny, you are twice as lovely. Really! you have +improved wonderfully. Your eyes, at this moment, are as brilliant +as fire--your lips like carnation--and your face like sunlit gold; +recollect, I'm a poet. I'm positively rejoiced at the good luck which +made me bring such a lovely expression into your fair countenance." + +Fanny turned her head away. + +"Come now, Fanny," said Ralph, seriously, "I do believe you are going +to find fault with my nonsense." + +No reply. + +Mr. Ralph Ashley heaved a sigh; and was silent. + +"You treat me like a child," said Fanny, reproachfully; "I am not a +child." + +"You certainly are not, my dearest Fanny--you are a charming young +lady--the most delicious of your sex." + +And Mr. Ralph Ashley accompanied these words with a glance so +ludicrously languishing, that Fanny, unable to command herself, burst +into laughter; and the quarrel was all made up, if quarrel it indeed +had been. + +"You _were_ a child in old times," said Mr. Ashley, throwing his foot +elegantly over his knee; "and, I recollect, had a perfect genius for +blindman's-buff; but, of course, at sixteen you have 'put away' all +those infantile or 'childish things'--though I am sincerely rejoiced +to see that you have not 'become a man.'" + +Fanny laughed. + +"I wish I was," she said. + +"What?" + +"Why a man." + +"Oh! you're very well as you are;--though if you were a 'youth,' I'm +sure, Fanny dear, I should be desperately fond of you." + +"Quite likely." + +"Oh, nothing truer; and everybody would say, 'See the handsome +friends.' Come now, would'nt we make a lovely couple." + +"Lovely!" + +"Suppose we try it." + +"Try what?" + +"Being a couple." + +Fanny suddenly caught, from the laughing eye, the young man's meaning, +and began to color. + +"I see you understand, my own Fanny," observed Mr. Ralph, "and I +expected nothing less from a young lady of your quickness. What say +you? It is not necessary for me to say that I'm desperately in love +with you." + +"Oh, not at all necessary!" replied Fanny, satirically, but with a +blush. + +"I see you doubt it." + +"Oh, not at all." + +"Which means, as usual with young ladies, that you don't believe a +word of it. Well, only try me. What proof will you have?" + +Fanny laughed with the same expression of constraint which we have +before observed, and said: + +"You have not looked upon the map of Virginia yet for my +'boundaries?'" + +Ralph received the hit full in the front. + +"By Jove! Fanny," he exclaimed, "I oughtn't to have told you that." + +"I'm glad you did." + +"Why?" + +"Because, of course, I shall not make any efforts to please you--you +are already 'engaged!'" + +"Engaged! well, you are wrong. Neither my heart nor my hand is +engaged. Ah, dear Fanny, you don't know how we poor students carry +away with us to college some consuming passion which we feed and +nurture;--how we toast the Dulcinea at oyster parties, and, like +Corydon, sigh over her miniature. I had yours!" + +"My--miniature?" said the lively Fanny, with a roseate blush, "you had +nothing of the sort." + +"Your likeness, then." + +"Equally untrue--where is it?" + +"Here!" said Mr. Ralph Ashley, laying his hand upon his heart, and +ogling Miss Fanny with terrible expression. "Ah, Fanny, darling, don't +believe that story I relate about myself--never has any one made any +impression on me--for my heart--my love--my thoughts--have always--" + +Suddenly the speaker became silent, and rising to his feet, made a +courteous and graceful bow. A young lady had just appeared at the +door. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE NECKLACE. + + +This was Redbud. + +The poor girl presented a great contrast to the lively Fanny, who, +with sparkling eyes and merry lips, and rosy, sunset cheeks, afforded +an excellent idea of the joyous Maia, as she trips on gathering her +lovely flowers. Poor Redbud! Her head was hanging down, her eyes +wandered sadly and thoughtfully toward the distant autumn horizon, and +the tender lips wore that expression of soft languor which is so sad a +spectacle in the young. + +At Mr. Ralph Ashley's bow, she raised her head quickly; and her +startled look showed plainly she had not been conscious of the +presence of Fanny, or the young man on the portico. + +Redbud returned the profound bow of Fanny's cavalier with a delightful +little curtsey, and would have retired into the house again. But this +Miss Fanny, for reasons best known to herself, was determined to +prevent--reasons which a close observer might have possibly guessed, +after looking at her blushing cheeks and timid, uneasy eyes. For +everybody knows that if there is anything more distasteful and +embarrassing to very young ladies than a failure on the part of +gallants to recognise their claims to attention, that other more +embarrassing circumstance is a too large _quantum_ of the pleasing +incense. It is not the present writer, however, who will go so far +as to say that their usual habit of running _away_ from the admirer +should be taken, as in other feminine manoeuvres, by contraries. + +So Fanny duly introduced Mr. Ralph Ashley to Miss Redbud Summers; and +then, with a little masonic movement of the head, added, with perfect +ease: + +"Suppose we all take a walk in the garden--it is a very pretty +evening." + +This proposition was enthusiastically seconded by Mr. Ralph Ashley, +who had regained his laughing ease again--and though Redbud would fain +have been excused, she was obliged to yield, and so in ten minutes +they were promenading up and down the old garden, engaged in pleasant +conversation--which conversation has, however, nothing to do with this +veracious history. + +Just as they arrived, in one of their perambulatory excursions around +the walks, at a small gate which opened on the hill-side, they +discovered approaching them a worthy of the pedlar description, who +carried on his broad German shoulders a large pack, which, as the +pedlar jogged along, made, pretences continually of an intention to +dive forward over his head, but always without carrying this intention +into execution. The traveling merchant seemed to be at the moment a +victim to that species of low spirits which attacks all his class when +trade is dull; and no sooner had he descried the youthful group, than +his face lighted up with anticipated business. + +He came to the gate at which they stood, and ducking his head, unslung +the pack, and without further ceremony opened it. + +A tempting array of stuffs and ribbons, pencils, pinchbeck jewels and +thimbles, scissors and knives, immediately became visible; with many +other things which it is not necessary for us to specify. The +pedlar called attention to them by pointing admiringly at each, and +recommended them by muttering broken English over them. + +With that propensity of young ladies to handle and examine all +articles which concern themselves with personal adornment, Fanny and +Redbud, though they really wanted nothing, turned over everything in +the pack. But little resulted therefrom for the pedlar. He did not +succeed in persuading Redbud to buy a beautiful dress pattern, with +dahlias and hollyhocks, in their natural size and colors; and was +equally unsuccessful with Fanny, who obstinately declined to +reduce into her possession a lovely lace cap, such as our dear +old grandmamas' portraits show us--though this description may be +incorrect, as Fanny always said that the article in question was a +night-cap. + +Disappointed in this, the pedlar brought out his minor "articles;" and +here he was more successful. Mr. Ashley bought sufficiently for his +young lady friends at the seminary, he said, and Redbud and Fanny both +purchased little things. + +Fanny bought the most splendid glass breastpin, which she pretended, +with a merry laugh, to admire "to distraction." Redbud, without +knowing very well why, bought a little red coral necklace, which +looked bright and new, and rattled merrily as she took it; for some +reason the pedlar parted with it for a very small sum, and then +somewhat hastily packed up his goods, and ducking his head in thanks, +went on his way. + +"Look what a very handsome breastpin I have!" said Fanny, as they +returned through the garden; "I'm sure nobody would know that it is +not a diamond." + +"You are right," said Mr. Ashley, smiling, "the world is given to +judging almost wholly from outward appearances. And what did you +purchase, Miss Summers--or Miss Redbud, if you will permit me--" + +"Oh, yes, sir," said Redbud, looking at him with her kind, sad eyes, +"you need'nt be ceremonious with _me_. Besides, you're Fanny's cousin. +I bought this necklace--I thought it old-fashioned and pretty." + +Redbud was silent again, her eyes bent quietly upon the walk, the long +lashes reposing thus upon the tender little cheeks. + +"Old-fashioned and pretty," said the young man, with a smile, "did you +not make a mistake there, Miss Redbud?" + +"No, sir--I meant it," she said, raising her eyes simply to his +own. "I think old-fashioned things are very often prettier and more +pleasant than new ones. Don't you?" + +"I do!" cried Fanny; "I'm sure my great grandmother's diamond +breastpin is much handsomer than this horrid thing!" + +And the young lady tore the pinchbeck jewel from her neck. + +Mr. Ashley laughed. + +"There's your consistency," he said; "just now you thought nothing +could be finer." + +Miss Fanny vehemently opposed this view of her character at great +length, and with extraordinary subtilty. We regret that the exigencies +of our narrative render it impossible for us to follow her--we can +only state that the result, as on all such occasions, was the total +defeat of the cavalier. Mr. Ralph Ashley several times stated his +willingness to subscribe to any views, opinions or conclusions which +Miss Fanny desired him to, and finally placed his fingers in his ears. + +Fanny greeted this manoeuvre with a sudden blow in the laugher's face, +from her bouquet; and Redbud, forgetting her disquietude, laughed +gaily at the merry cousins. + +So they entered, and met the bevy of young school girls on the +portico, with whom Mr. Ralph Ashley, in some manner, became +instantaneously popular: perhaps partly on account of the grotesque +presents he scattered among them, with his gay, joyous laughter. After +thus making himself generally agreeable, he looked at the setting sun, +and said he must go. He would, however, soon return, he said, to see +his dearest Fanny, the delight of his existence. And having made +this pleasant speech, he went away on his elegant horse, laughing, +good-humored, and altogether a very pleasing, graceful-looking +cavalier, as the red sunset showered upon his rich apparel and his +slender charger all its wealth of ruddy, golden light. + +And as he went on thus, so gallant, in the bravery of youth and joy, +a young lady, sitting on the sun-lit portico, followed him with her +eyes; and leaning her fine brow, with its ebon curls, upon her hand, +mused with a sigh and a smile. And when the cavalier turned round as +the trees swallowed him, and waved his hat, with its fine feather, in +the golden light, Miss Fanny murmured--"Really, I think--Ralph--has +very much--improved!" Which seemed to be a very afflicting +circumstance to Miss Fanny, inasmuch as she uttered a deep sigh. + +Meanwhile our little Redbud gazed, too, from the brilliantly-illumined +portico, toward the golden ocean in the west. The rich light lingered +lovingly upon her golden hair, and tender lips and cheeks, and snowy +neck, on which the coral necklace rose and fell with the pulsations of +her heart. The kind, mild eyes were fixed upon the sunset sadly, and +their blue depths seemed to hold more than one dew-drop, ready to pass +the barrier of the long dusky lashes, which closed gradually as the +pure white forehead drooped upon her hand. + +For a long time the tender heart remained thus still and quiet; then +her lips moved faintly, and she murmured-- + +"Oh, it is wrong--I know it is--I ought not to!" + +And two tears fell on the child's hand, and on the necklace, which the +fingers held. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +PHILOSOPHICAL. + + +We left our friend Verty slowly going onward toward the western hills, +under the golden autumn sunset, with drooping head and listless arms, +thinking of Redbud and the events of the day, which now was going to +its death in royal purple over the far horizon. + +One thought, one image only dwelt in the young man's mind, and what +that thought was, his tell-tale lips clearly revealed:--"Redbud! +Redbud!" they murmured; and the dreamer seemed to be wholly dead to +that splendid scene around him, dreaming of his love. + +There are those who speak slightingly of boyhood and its feelings, +scoffing at the early yearnings of the heart, and finding only food +for jest in those innocent and childish raptures and regrets. We do +not envy such. That man's heart must be made of doubtful stuff, who +jeers at the fresh dreams of youth; or rather, he must have no heart +at all--above all, no sweet and affecting recollections. There is +something touching in the very idea of this pure and unselfish +emotion, which the hardened nature of the grown-up man can never feel +again. Men often dream about their childhood, and shed unavailing +tears as they gaze in fancy on their own youthful faces, and with the +pencil of imagination slowly trace the old forms and images. + +Said a writer of our acquaintance, no matter who, since no one read or +thought of him:--"The writer of these idle lines finds no difficulty +in painting for himself a Titian picture, in which, as in his +life-picture, his own figure lies on the canvas. Long ago--a long, +long time ago--in fact, when he was a boy, and loved dearly a child +like himself, a child who is now a fair and beautiful-browed woman, +and who smiles with a dreamy, thoughtful expression, when his face +comes to her--long ago, flowers were very bright in the bright May +day, by a country brookside. The butter-cups were over all the hills, +for children to put under their chins, and pea-blossoms, very much +like lady-slippers, swayed prettily in the wind. Beneath the feet of +the boy and girl--she was a merry, bright-eyed child! how I love her +still!--broke crocuses and violets, and a thousand wild flowers, fresh +and full of fairy beauty. The grass was green and soft, and the birds +rose through the air on fluttering wings, singing and rejoicing, and +the clouds floated over them as only clouds in May can float, quickly, +hopefully, with a dash of changeful April in them--not like those of +August: for the May cloud is a maiden, a child, full of life and joy, +running and playing, and looking playfully back at the winds as they +rustle on--not August-like--a thoughtful ripened beauty, large, lazy, +and contemplative, whose spring of youth has passed, whose summer has +arrived, in all its wealth, and power, and languid splendor. Well, +they wandered--the boy and girl--on the bright May day, pleasantly +across the hills, and along the brook, which ran merrily over the +pebbles as bright as diamonds. That boy has now become a man, and he +has vainly sought, in all the glittering pursuits of life, an adequate +recompense for the death of those soft hours. Having gone, as all +things must go, they left no equivalent in the future. But not, +therefore, in sadness does he write this: rather in deep joy, and as +though he had said-- + + 'Give me a golden pen, and let me lean + On heaped-up flowers--' + +"So wholly flooded is his heart with the memory of that young, frank +face. She wore a pink dress, he recollects--all children should wear +either pink or white--and her hair was in long, bright curls, and her +eyes were diamonds, full of light. He thought the birds were envious +of her singing, when she carolled clearly in the bright May morning. +He wove her a garland of flowers for her hair, and she blushed as +she took it from his hands. She had on a small gold ring, and a red +bracelet; and since that time he has loved red bracelets more than all +barbaric pearls and gold. In those times, the trees were greener than +at present, the birds sang more sweetly, and the streams ran far more +merrily. They thought so at least, as they sat under a large oak, and +he read to her, with shadowy, loving eyes, nearly full of happy tears, +old songs, that 'dallied with the innocence of love, like the old +age.' And so the evening went into the west, and they returned, +and all the night and long days afterward her smile shone on him, +brightening his life as it does now." + +Who laughs? Is it at Verty going along with drooping forehead, and +deep sighs; or at the unappreciated great poet, whose prose-strains we +have recorded? Well, friends, perhaps you have reason. Therefore, +let us unite our voices in one great burst of "inextinguishable +laughter"--as of the gods on Mount Olympus--raised very high above the +world! + +Let us rejoice that we have become more rational, and discarded +all that folly, and are busying ourselves with rational +affairs--Wall-street, and cent per cent. and dividends. Having +become men, we have put away childish things, and among them, the +encumbrances of a heart. Who would have one? It makes you dream on +autumn days, when the fair sunlight streams upon the sails which waft +the argosies of commerce to your warehouse;--it almost leads you to +believe that stocks are not the one thing to be thought of on this +earth--that all the hurrying bustle of existence is of doubtful +weight, compared with the treasures of that memory which leads us back +to boyhood and its innocent illusions. Let us part with it, if any +indeed remains, and so press on, unfettered, in the glorious race for +cash. The "golden age" of Arcady is gone so long--the new has +come! The crooks wreathed round with flowers are changed into +telegraph-posts, and Corydon is on a three-legged stool, busy with +ledgers--knitting his brow as he adds up figures. Let us be thankful. + +Therefore, as we have arrived at this rational conclusion, and come to +regard Verty and his feelings in their proper light, we will not speak +further of the foolish words which escaped from his lips, as he +went on, in the crimson sunset slowly fading. In time, perhaps, his +education will be completed in the school of Rational Philosophy, +under that distinguished lady-professor, Miss Sallianna. At present +we shall allow him to proceed upon his way toward his lodge in the +wilderness, where the old Indian woman awaits him with her deep love +and anxious tenderness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +CONSEQUENCES OF MISS SALLIANNA'S PASSION FOR VERTY. + + +When Verty made his appearance at the office in Winchester, on the +morning of the day which followed immediately the events we have just +related, Roundjacket received him with a mysterious smile, and with +an expression of eye, particularly, which seemed to suggest the most +profound secrecy and confidence. Roundjacket did not say anything, but +his smile was full of meaning. + +Verty, however, failed to comprehend;--even paid no attention to +his poetical friend, when that gentleman put his hand in his +breast-pocket, and half-drew something therefrom, looking at Verty. + +The young man was too much absorbed in gloomy thought to observe these +manoeuvres; and, besides, we must not lose sight of the fact, that he +was an Indian, and did not understand hints and intimations as well as +civilized individuals. + +Roundjacket was forced, at last, to clear his throat and speak. + +"Hem!" observed the poet. + +"Sir?" said Verty, for the tone of Roundjacket's observation was such +as to convey the impression that he was about to speak. + +"I've got something for you, my dear fellow," said the poet. + +"Have you, sir?" + +"Yes; now guess what it is." + +"I don't think I could." + +"What do you imagine it can be?" + +Verty shook his head, and leaned upon his desk. + +"It has some connection with the subject of numerous conversations +we have held," said Roundjacket, persuasively, waving backward and +forward the ruler which he had taken up abstractedly, and as he +did so, indulging in a veiled and confidential smile; "now you can +guess--can't you?" + +"I think not, sir." + +"Why, what have we been talking about lately?" + +"Law." + +"No, sir!" + +"Havn't we?" + +"By no means--that is to say, there is a still more interesting +subject, my dear young savage, than even law." + +"Oh, I know now--" + +"Ah--!" + +"It is poetry." + +"Bah!" observed the poet; "you're out yet. But who knows? Your guess +may be correct. It may be poetry." + +"What, sir?" + +"This letter for you, from a lady," said Roundjacket, smiling, and +drawing from his pocket an elegantly folded billet. + +Verty rose quickly. + +"A letter for me, sir!" he said, blushing. + +"Yes; not from a great distance though," Roundjacket replied, with a +sly chuckle; "see here; the post-mark is the 'Bower of Nature.'" + +Verty extended his hand abruptly, his lips open, his countenance +glowing. + +"Oh, give it to me, sir!" + +Roundjacket chuckled more than ever, and handing it to the young man, +said: + +"An African of small dimensions brought it this morning, and said no +answer was required--doubtless, therefore, it is _not_ a love-letter, +the writers of which are well-known to appreciate replies. Hey! what's +the matter, my friend?" + +This exclamation was called forth by the sudden and extraordinary +change in Verty's physiognomy. As we have said, the young man had +received the letter with a radiant flush, and a brilliant flash of his +fine eye; and thus the reader will easily comprehend, when we inform +him, that Verty imagined the letter to be from Redbud. Redbud was his +one thought, the only image in his mind, and Roundjacket's words, +"post-mark, the Bower of Nature," had overwhelmed him with the +blissful expectation of a note from Redbud, with loving words of +explanation in it, recalling him, making him once more happy. He tore +open the letter, which was simply directed to "Mr. Verty, at Judge +Rushton's office," and found his dream dispelled. Alas! the name, at +the foot of the manuscript, was not "Redbud"--it was "Sallianna!" + +And so, when the young man's hopes were overturned, the bright flash +of his clear eye was veiled in mist again, and his hand fell, with a +gesture of discouragement, which Roundjacket found no difficulty in +understanding. + +Verty's face drooped upon his hand, and with the other hand, which +held the letter, hanging down at the side of his chair, he sighed +profoundly. He remained thus, buried in thought, for some time, +Roundjacket gazing at him in silence. He was aroused by something +pulling at the letter, which turned to be Longears, who was biting +Miss Sallianna's epistle in a literary way, and this aroused him. He +saw Roundjacket looking at him. + +"Ah--ah!" said that gentleman, "it seems, young man, that the letter +is not to your taste." + +Verty sighed. + +"I hav'nt read it," he said. + +"How then--?" + +"It's not from Redbud." + +Roundjacket chuckled. + +"I begin to understand now why your face changed so abruptly when +you recognized the handwriting, Mr. Verty," said the poet; gently +brandishing the ruler, and directing imaginary orchestras; "you +expected a note from your friend, Miss Redbud--horrid habit you have, +that of cutting off the Miss--and now you are unhappy." + +"Yes--unhappy," Verty said, leaning his head on his wrist. + +"Who's the letter from?" + +"It's marked private and confidential, sir; I ought not to tell +you--ought I." + +"No, sir, by no means," said Roundjacket; "I would'nt listen to it for +a bag of doubloons. But you should read it." + +"I will, sir," Verty said, sighing. + +And he spread the letter out before him and read it carefully, with +many varying expressions on his face. The last expression of all, +however, was grief and pain. As he finished, his head again drooped, +and his sorrowful eyes were fixed on vacancy. + +"I'll tell you what it is, Verty, my friend," said Roundjacket, +chuckling, "I don't think we make much by keeping you from paying a +daily visit to some of your friends. My own opinion is, that you would +do more work if you went and had some amusement." + +"And I think so, too," said a rough voice behind the speaker, whose +back was turned to the front door of the office; "it is refreshing +to hear you talking sense, instead of nonsense, once in your life, +Roundjacket." + +And Mr. Rushton strode in, and looked around him with a scowl. + +"Good morning, sir," said Verty, sadly. + +"Good morning, sir?" growled Mr. Rushton, "no, sir! it's a a bad +morning, a wretched, diabolical morning, if the sun _is_ pretending to +shine." + +"I think the sunshine is very pretty, sir." + +"Yes--I suppose you do--I have no doubt of it--everything is pretty, +of course,--Roundjacket!" + +"Well?" + +"Did you get exhibit 10?" + +"I did, sir," replied Roundjacket, sighting his ruler to see if it was +straight. "Have you had your breakfast, sir?" + +"Yes, sir; why did you ask?" + +"Oh, nothing--you know I thought you uncommonly amiable this morning." + +Mr. Rushton scowled, and the ghost of a smile passed over his rigid +lips. + +"I am nothing of the sort! I'm a perfect bear!" he growled. + +"Not inconsistent with my former observation that you were better than +usual," observed Roundjacket, with an agreeable smile. "I can prove to +you quite readily that--" + +"You are a ninny--I have no doubt of it--if I would listen to your +wretched jabber! Enough! if you talk any more I'll go home again. A +fine state of things, truly--that I am to have my mind dissipated when +I'm in working trim by the nonsense of a crack-brained poet!" + +Roundjacket's indignation at this unfeeling allusion to his great poem +was so intense, that for the moment he was completely deprived of +utterance. + +"And as for you, young man," said Mr. Rushton, smiling grimly at +Verty, "I suppose you are following the ordinary course of foolish +young men, and falling in love! Mark me, sir! the man that falls in +love makes a confounded fool of himself--you had better at once go +and hang yourself. Pretty people you are, with your 'eyes' and +'sighs'--your 'loves' and 'doves'--your moonlight, and flowers and +ecstacies! Avoid it, sir! it's like honey-water--it catches the legs +of flies like you, and holds you tight. Don't think you can take a +slight sip of the wine, sir, and there leave off--no, sir, you +don't leave off, you youngsters never do; you guzzle a gallon! The +consequence is intellectual drunkenness, and thus you make, as I said +before, confounded fools of yourselves! Bah! why am I wasting my +time!--a vast deal of influence we people who give good advice +possess! Young men will be fools to the end--go and see your +sweetheart!" + +And with a grim smile, the shaggy lawyer entered his sanctum, and +banged the door, just as Roundjacket, still irate about the slur +cast upon his poetry, had commenced reading in a loud voice the fine +introductory stanzas--his hair sticking up, his eyes rolling, +his ruler breaking the skulls of invisible foes. Alas for +Roundjacket!--nobody appreciated him, which is perhaps one of the most +disagreeable things in nature. Even Verty rose in a minute, and took +up his hat and rifle, as was his habit. + +Roundjacket rolled up his manuscript with a deep sigh, and restored it +to the desk. + +"Where are you going, young man?" he said. "But I know--and that is +your excuse for such shocking taste as you display. As for the within +bear," and Roundjacket pointed toward Mr. Rushton's apartment, "he is +unpardonable!" + +"Well, good-bye." + +These latter words were uttered as Verty went out, followed by +Longears, and closed the door of the office after him. + +He had scarcely heard or understood Mr. Rushton's extraordinary +speech: but had comprehended that he was free to go away, and in the +troubled state of his mind, this was a great boon. Yes! he would go +and suffer again in Redbud's presence--this time he would know whether +she really hated him. And then that passage in the letter! The thought +tore his heart. + +What could the reason for this dislike possibly be? Certainly not his +familiar ascent to her room, on the previous day. Could it have been +because she did not like him in his fine clothes? Was this latter +possible? It might be. + +"I'll go to Mr. O'Brallaghan's and get my old suit--he has not sent +them yet," said Verty, aloud; "then I'll go and see Redbud just as she +used to see me in old times, at Apple Orchard, when we were--ah!--so +happy!" + +The "ah" above, represents a very deep sigh, which issued from Verty's +breast, as he went along with the dignified Longears at his heels. +Longears never left his master, unless he was particularly attracted +by a small fight among some of his brethren, or was seized with +a desire to thrust his nostrils against some baby playing on the +sidewalk, (a ceremony which, we are sorry to say, he accompanied +with a sniff,) throwing the juvenile responsibility, thereby, into +convulsions, evidenced by yells. With these exceptions, Longears was +a well-behaved dog, and followed his master in a most "respectable" +manner. + +Verty arrived at the fluttering doorway of O'Brallaghan's shop, and +encountered the proprietor upon the threshold, who made him a low bow. +His errand was soon told, and O'Brallaghan entered into extensive +explanations and profuse apologies for the delay in sending home Mr. +Verty's suit left with him. It would have received "attinshun" that +very morning--it was in the back room. Would Mr. Verty "inter?" + +Verty entered accordingly, followed by the stately Longears, who +rubbed his nose against O'Brallaghan's stockings as he passed, +afterwards shaking his head, as if they were not to his taste. + +Verty found himself opposite to Mr. Jinks, who was driving his needle +as savagely as ever, and, with a tremendous frown, chaunting the then +popular ditty of the "Done-over Tailor." Whether this was in gloomy +satire upon his own occupation we cannot say, but certainly the lover +of the divine Miss Sallianna presented an appearance very different +from his former one, at the Bower of Nature. His expression was as +dignified and lofty as before; but as to costume, the least said about +Mr. Jinks the better. We may say, however, that it consisted mainly +of a pair of slippers and a nightcap, from the summit of which latter +article of clothing drooped a lengthy tassel. + +On Verty's entrance, Mr. Jinks started up with a terrific frown; +or rather, to more accurately describe the movement which he made, +uncoiled his legs, and raised his stooping shoulders. + +"How, sir!" he cried, "is my privacy again invaded!" + +"I came to get my clothes," said Verty, preoccupied with his own +thoughts, and very indifferent to the hero's ire. + +"That's no excuse, sir!" + +"Excuse?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir--I said excuse; this is my private apartment, and I have +told O'Brallaghan that it should not be invaded, sir!" + +These indignant words brought Mr. O'Brallaghan to the door, whereupon +Mr. Jinks repeated his former observation, and declared that it was an +outrage upon his dignity and his rights. + +O'Brallaghan displayed some choler at the tone which Mr. Jinks used, +and his Irish blood began to rise. He stated that Mr. Verty had come +for his clothes, and should have them. Mr. Jinks replied, that he +had'nt said anything about Mr. Verty; but was contending for a +principle. Mr. O'Brallaghan replied to this with an observation which +was lost in his neck-handkerchief, but judging from as much as was +audible, in defiance and contempt of Jinks. Jinks observed, with +dignity and severity, that there were customers in the store, who were +gazing at Mr. Verty, just as he was about to disrobe. O'Brallaghan +muttered thereupon to himself some hostile epithets, and hastily +returned to wait upon the customers, leaving Mr. Jinks dodging to +avoid the eyes of the new-comers, but still preserving an expression +of haughty scorn. + +Meanwhile Verty had descried his old forest suit lying upon a shelf, +and, laying down his rifle, had nearly indued his limbs therewith. In +fifteen minutes he had completed the change in his costume, and stood +before Mr. Jinks the same forest-hunter which he had been, before the +purchase of the elegant clothes he had just taken off. Instead of +rosetted shoes, moccasins; instead of silk and velvet, leather and +fur. On his head, his old white hat had taken the place of the +fashionable chapeau. Verty finished, by taking off the bow of ribbon +which secured his hair behind, and scattering the profuse curls over +his shoulders. + +"Now," he sighed, looking in a mirror which hung upon the wall, "I +feel more like myself." + +Jinks gazed at him with dignified emotion. + +"You return to the woods, sir," he said; "would that I could make up +my mind to follow your example. This man, O'Brallaghan, however--" + +And Mr. Jinks completed his sentence by savagely clipping a piece of +cloth with the huge shears he held, as though the enemy's neck were +between them. + +Verty scarcely observed this irate movement. + +"I'll leave the clothes here," he said; "I'm going now--good-bye." + +And taking up his rifle, the young man went out, followed by Longears, +who, to the last, bent his head over his shoulder, and gazed upon Mr. +Jinks with curiosity and interest. + +Jinks, with a savage look at O'Brallaghan, was about to return to his +work, when a letter, protruding from the pocket of the coat which +Verty had just taken off, attracted his attention, and he pounced upon +it without hesitation. + +Jinks had recognized the handwriting of Miss Sallianna in the address, +and in an instant determined to use no ceremony. + +He tore it open, and read, with savage scowls and horrible contortions +of the visage, that which follows. Unfortunate Jinks--reading private +letters is a hazardous proceeding: and this was what the hero read: + + "BOWER OF NATURE, + AT THE MATIN HOUR. + + "CHARMING, AND, ALAS! + TOO DANGEROUS YOUNG MAN: + +"Since seeing thee, on yester eve, my feelings have greatly changed in +intensity, and I fluctuate beneath an emotion of oblivious delight. +Alas! we young, weak women, try in vain to obstruct the gurgling of +the bosom; for I perceive that even I am not proof against the arrows +of the god Diana. My heart has thrilled, my dearest friend, ever since +you departed, yester eve, with a devious and intrinsic sensation of +voluminous delight. The feelings cannot be concealed, but must be +impressed in words; or, as the great Milton says, in his Bucoliks, +the o'er-fraught heart would break! Love, my dear Mr. Verty, is +contiguous--you cannot be near the beloved object without catching the +contagion, and to this fact I distribute that flame which now flickers +with intense conflagration in my bosom. Why, cruel member of the other +sex! did you evade the privacy of our innocent and nocturnal retreat, +turning the salubrious and maiden emotions of my bosom into agonizing +delight and repressible tribulation! Could you not practice upon +others the wiles of your intrinsic charms, and spare the weak +Sallianna, whose only desire was to contemplate the beauties of nature +in her calm retreat, where a small property sufficed for all her +mundane necessities? Alas! but yester morn I was cheerful and +invigorating--with a large criterion of animal spirits, and a bosom +which had never sighed responsible to the flattering vows of beaux. +But now!--ask me not how I feel, in thinking of _the person_ who has +touched my indurate heart. Need I say that the individual in question +has only to demand that heart, to have it detailed to him in all +its infantile simplicity and diurnal self-reliance? Do not--do +not--diffuse it! + +"I have, during the whole period of my mundane pre-existence, always +been troubled with beaux and admirers. I have, in vain, endeavored to +escape from their fascinating diplomas, but they have followed me, and +continued to prosecute me with their adorous intentions. None of +them could ever touch my fanciful disposition, which has exalted an +intrinsic and lofty beau--idle to itself. I always had to reply, when +they got down upon their knees to me, and squeezed my hands, that I +could not force my sensations; and though I should ever esteem them +as friends, I could not change my condition of maiden meditation and +exculpation for the agitation of matrimonial engagements. I need not +say that now my feelings have changed, and you, Mr. Verty, have become +the idle of my existence. You are yet young, but with a rare and +intrinsic power of intellect. In future, you will not pay any more +intention to that foolish little Reddy, who is very well in her way, +but unworthy of a great and opprobrious intelligence like yours. She +is a mere child, as I often tell her, and cannot love. + +"Come to your devoted Sallianna immediately, and let us discurse the +various harmonies of nature. I have given orders not to admit any +of my numerous beaux, especially that odious Mr. Jinks, who is my +abomination. I will tell Reddy that your visit is to me, and she will +not annoy you, especially as she is in love with a light young man who +comes to see Fanny, her cousin, Mr. Ashley. + +"Come to one who awaits thee, and who assigns herself + +"Your devoted, + +"SALLIANNA." + +Jinks frowned a terrible frown, and ground his teeth. + +For a moment, he stood gazing with profound contempt upon the +letter which he had just read; then seizing his shears, snipped the +unfortunate sheet into microscopic fragments, all the while frowning +with terrible intensity. + +The letter destroyed, Jinks stood for a moment with folded arms, +scowling and reflecting. + +Suddenly he strode to the other side of the room, kicking off his +slippers as he went, and hurling his night-cap at the mirror. + +"Yes!" he cried, grinding his teeth, "I'll do it, and without +delay--perfidious woman!" + +In ten minutes Mr. Jinks had assumed his usual fashionable costume, +and buckled on his sword. A savage flirt of his locks completed +his toilette, and in all the splendor of his scarlet stockings and +embroidered waistcoat, he issued forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +INTERCHANGE OF COMPLIMENTS. + + +O'Brallaghan, as he passed through the shop, requested to be informed +where Mr. Jinks was going. + +Jinks stopped, and scowled at Mr. O'Brallaghan, thereby intimating +that his, Jinks', private rights were insolently invaded by a coarse +interrogatory. + +O'Brallaghan observed, that if Mr. Jinks was laboring under the +impression that he, O'Brallaghan, was to be frowned down by an +individual of his description, he was greatly mistaken. And by way of +adding to the force of this observation, Mr. O'Brallaghan corrugated +his forehead in imitation of his adversary. + +Jinks replied, that he was equally indifferent to the scowls of Mr. +O'Brallaghan, and expressed his astonishment and disgust at being +annoyed, when he was going out to take some exercise for the benefit +of his health. + +O'Brallaghan informed Mr. Jinks that the going out had nothing to do +with it, and that he, Jinks, knew very well that he, O'Brallaghan, +objected to nothing but the tone assumed toward himself by the said +Jinks, whose airs were not to be endured, and, in future, would not +be, by him. If this was not satisfactory, he, the said Jinks, might +take the law of him, or come out and have it decided with shillalies, +either of which courses were perfectly agreeable to him, O'Brallaghan. + +Whereupon, Jinks expanded his nostril, and said that gentlemen did not +use the vulgar Irish weapon indicated. + +To which O'Brallaghan replied, that the circumstance in question would +not prevent Mr. Jinks' using the weapon. + +A pause followed these words, broken in a moment, however, by Mr. +Jinks, who stated that Mr. O'Brallaghan was a caitiff. + +O'Brallaghan, growing very red in the face, observed that Mr. Jinks +owed his paternity to a "gun." + +Jinks, becoming enraged thereupon, drew his sword, and declared his +immediate intention of ridding the earth of a scoundrel and a villain. + +Which intention, however, was not then carried into execution, owing +to the timely arrival of a red-faced, though rather handsome Irish +lady of twenty-five or thirty, who, in the broadest Celtic, commanded +the peace, and threatened the combatants with a hot flat-iron, which +she brandished in her stalwart fist. + +O'Brallaghan laid down the stick which he had seized, and ogled the +lady, declaring in words that the wish of mistress O'Callighan was +law to him, and that further, he had no desire to fight with the +individual before him, who had been making use of abusive and +threatening language, and had even drawn his skewer. + +Jinks stated that he would have no more altercation with an individual +of Mr. O'Brallaghan's standing in society--he would not demean +himself--and from that moment shook the dust of his, O'Brallaghan's, +establishment from his, Jinks', feet. Which declaration was +accompanied with a savage kick upon the door. + +O'Brallaghan congratulated himself upon the extreme good fortune for +himself involved in Mr. Jinks' decision, and hoped he would carefully +observe the friendly and considerate advice he now gave him, which +was, never to show his nose in the shop again during the period of his +mundane existence. + +Whereupon Jinks, annihilating his adversary with a terrific frown, +stated his intention to implicitly observe the counsel given him, and +further, to have revenge. + +In which O'Brallaghan cheerfully acquiesced, observing that the +importance attached by himself to the threats of Mr. Jinks was exactly +commensurate with the terror which would be caused him by the kick of +a flea. + +And so, with mutual and terrible frowns, this alarming interview +terminated: Mr. Jinks grimacing as he departed with awful menace, and +getting his grasshopper legs entangled in his sword; Mr. O'Brallaghan +remaining behind, though not behind the counter, paying devoted +attention to the ruddy and handsome lady with the hot flat-iron, +Mistress Judith O'Callighan, who watched the retreating Jinks with +tender melancholy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +WHAT OCCURRED AT BOUSCH'S TAVERN. + + +Let us follow Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman went on his way, reflecting upon the step which he +had just taken, and revolving in his mind the course which he should +pursue in future. + +The result of his reflections was, that a matrimonial engagement would +just answer his purpose, especially with a lady possessing a "small +property--" at which words, as they left his muttering lips, Jinks +frowned. + +It was Miss Sallianna's favorite phrase. + +Miss Sallianna! + +The tumult which arose in Jinks' breast upon the thought of that young +lady's treachery toward himself occurred to him, may, as our brother +historians are fond of saying, "be better imagined than described." +Before, Jinks' brows were corrugated into a frown; now, however, two +mountain ridges, enclosing a deep valley, extended from the upper +portion of the bridge of the Jinks nose to the middle of the Jinks +forehead. + +The despairing lover resembled an ogre who had not dined for two whole +days, and was ready to devour the first comer. + +What should he do? Take revenge, or marry the perfidious woman? Jinks +did not doubt his ability to perform the latter; and thus he went on +his way in doubt and wrath. + +At least he would go that very morning and charge her with perfidy; +and so having decided upon his course so far, he strode on rapidly. + +Mr. Jinks bent his course toward Bousch's tavern, where he proposed to +take up his temporary residence. + +Since this house has become historical, let us say a word of it. It +was one of those old wooden "ordinaries" of Virginia, which are now +never seen in towns of any size, crouching only on the road-side or in +obscure nooks, where the past lives still. It was a building of large +size, though but two stories in height, and even then presented an +ancient appearance, with its low eaves, small-paned windows, and stone +slab before the door. Behind it was an old garden, and near at hand, +two ponderous valves opened upon a large stable-yard full of bustling +hostlers. + +The neighborhood in which this ancient dwelling stood was not without +a certain picturesqueness, thanks to the old, low-eaved houses, dating +from the French-Indian wars, and grassy knolls, from which quarries of +limestone stood out boldly; above all, because of the limpid stream, +which, flowing from the west just by the portico of the old tavern, +murmured gaily in the traveller's ear, and leaped toward him as he +crossed it, or allowed his weary animal to bathe his nostrils in the +cool water. Two or three majestic weeping-willows plunged their broad +trunks and vigorous roots into the clear stream, and sighed forever +over it, as, passing onward, it ran away from the Bousch hostelry +toward its ocean, the Opequon. + +This old tavern, which exists still, we believe, a venerable relic +of the border past, was, in the year 1777, the abode of a "number of +Quakers, together with one druggist and a dancing-master, sent +to Winchester under guard, with a request from the Executive of +Pennsylvania, directed to the County-Lieutenant of Frederick, to +secure them." The reasons for this arrest and exile may be found in +a Congressional report upon the subject, (Anno. 1776,) which states, +that well-attested facts "rendered it certain and notorious that those +persons were, with much rancour and bitterness, disaffected to the +American cause;"--for which reason they were requested to go and +remain in durance at Winchester, in Virginia. How they protested at +Philadelphia against being taken into custody--protested again at the +Pennsylvania line against being carried out of that state--protested +again at the Maryland line against being taken into Virginia--and +ended by protesting at Winchester against everything in general--it is +all written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Valley of Virginia, +by Mr. Samuel Kercheval, and also in an interesting Philadelphia +publication, "Friends in Exile." To this day the old sun-dial in the +garden of "Bousch's Tavern" has upon it the inscription: + +"_Exul patria causa libertates_" with the names of the unfortunate +exiles written under it--always provided that the dial itself remains, +and the rain, and snow, and sun, have not blotted out the words. That +they were there, the present chronicler knows upon good authority. +How the exiles passed their time at Winchester, and finally returned, +will, some day, be embodied in authentic history. + +It was many years after the quaker inroad; in fact the eighteenth +century, with all its philosophical, political, and scientific +"protests" everywhere, was nearly dead and gone, when another scene +occurred at Bousch's tavern, which history knows something of. As that +august muse, however, does not bury herself with personal details, we +will briefly refer to this occurrence. + +It was about mid-day, then, when a carriage, with travelling trunks +behind it, and a white, foreign-looking driver and footman on the seat +before, drew rein in front of the old hostelry we have described. + +The footman descended from his perch, and approaching the door of +the carriage, opened it, and respectfully assisted two gentlemen to +alight. These gentlemen were dressed with elegant simplicity. + +The first had an oval face, which was full of good-humor, and in +which an imaginative eye might have discerned an odd resemblance to a +_pear_; the second, who seemed to be his brother, was more sedate, and +did not smile. + +The gentlemen entered the inn, and asked if dinner could be furnished. +The landlord replied that nothing could be easier, and called their +attention to a noise which issued from the next room. + +The elder gentleman, whose accent had indicated his foreign origin, +approached the door which led into the dining-room, followed by his +companion. + +They looked in. + +A long table, covered with a profusion of everything which the most +robust appetite could desire, was filled with ploughmen, rough +farmers, hunters from the neighboring hills, and a nondescript class, +which were neither farmers, ploughmen, nor hunters, but made their +living by conveying huge teams from town to town. They were travelling +merchants--not wagoners simply, as might have been supposed from their +garments full of straw, and the huge whips which lay beside them on +the floor. When they chewed their food, these worthies resembled +horses masticating ears of corn; when they laughed, they made the +windows rattle. + +The good-humored traveller shook his head; over the face of his +companion passed a disdainful smile, which did not escape the +landlord. + +As the elder turned round, he observed his servant inscribing their +names in the tavern-book. He would have stopped him, but he had +already written the names. + +He thereupon turned to the landlord. + +Could they not have a private room? + +Hum!--it was contrary to rule. + +They wanted to dine. + +Could they not make up their minds to join the company? + +The younger traveller could not, and would not--a room. + +The landlord assumed a dogged expression, and replied that he made no +distinction among his guests. What was good enough for one was good +enough for all. + +Then, the young traveller said, he would not stay in such a place. + +The host replied, that he might go and welcome--the sooner the +better--he wanted no lofty foreign gentlemen with their airs, etc. + +The two gentlemen bowed with grave politeness, and made a sign to +their servants, who came forward, looking with terrible frowns at +Boniface. + +Prepare the carriage to set out again--they would not dine there. + +How Monseigneur would go on in spite of-- + +Enough--Monseigneur would consult them when it was necessary. Harness +the horses again. + +The result of which command was, that in ten minutes the two gentlemen +were again upon the road. + +The landlord watched them, with a frown, as they departed. He then +bethought him of the book where the servant had inscribed their names, +and opened it. On the page was written: + + "MR. LOUIS PHILLIPPE, + "MR. MONTPENSIER, + PARIS." + +The landlord had driven from his establishment the future king of the +French, and his brother, because they wanted a private apartment to +dine in. + +The common version that the Duke was personally assaulted, and turned +out, is a mere fiction--our own account is the proper and true one. + +So Bousch's Tavern was only fated to be historical, when Mr. Jinks +approached it--that character having not yet been attached to it. +Whether the absence of such associations affected the larder in Mr. +Jinks' opinion, we cannot say--probably not, however. + +Certain is it that Jinks entered with dignity, and accosted the fat, +ruddy, German landlord, Mr. Bousch, and proceeding to do what a +quarter of a century afterwards a Duke imitated him in, asked for a +private chamber. Mr. Bousch seemed to see nothing improper in this +request, and even smiled an assent when Jinks, still scowling, +requested that a measure of Jamaica rum might be dispatched before +him, to his chamber. + +Jinks then strolled out to the pathway before the tavern, and looked +around him. + +Suddenly there came out of the stable yard a young man, mounted on a +shaggy horse, which young man was clad in a forest costume, and held a +rifle in his hand. + +Jinks directed a terrible glance toward him, and started forward. + +As the horseman came out of the gateway, he found the road obstructed +by Mr. Jinks, whose drawn sword was in his hand. + +"Back! rash youth!" cried Jinks, with terrible emphasis, "or this +sword shall split thy carcass--back!" + +And the speaker flashed the sword so near to Cloud's eyes that he +tossed up his head and nearly reared. + +Verty had been gazing at the sky, and was scarcely conscious of Mr. +Jinks' presence;--but the movement made by Cloud aroused him. He +looked at the sword wonderingly. + +"Stand back!" cried Jinks, "or thou art dead, young man! Turn your +horse into that receptacle of animals again, and go not toward the +Bower of Nature!" + +"Anan?" said the young man, calmly. + +"So you pretend not to understand, do you! Vile caitiff! advance +one step at your peril--try to go and complete arrangements for a +matrimonial engagement at the Bower of Nature, and thou diest!" + +Verty was getting angry. + +"Mr. Jinks, you'd better get out of the way," he said, calmly. + +"Never! stand back! Attempt to push your animal toward me, and I +slaughter him. Base caitiff! Know that the rival you have yonder is +myself! Know that she loves you not, and is now laughing at you, +however much she may have made you believe she loved you! She is a +wretch!" + +Verty thought Mr. Jinks spoke of Redbud--the dominant idea again--and +frowned. + +"Yes! a perfidious, unfeeling traitoress," observed Mr. Jinks, +grimacing terribly; "and if thou makest a single step toward her, I +will spit thee on my sword!" + +Verty cocked his rifle, and placing the muzzle thereof on the Jinks' +breast, made a silent movement of his head, to the effect, that Mr. +Jinks would consult his personal safety by ceasing to obstruct the +way. + +Jinks no sooner heard the click of the trigger, and saw the murderous +muzzle directed towards his breast, than letting his sword fall, he +started back with a horrified expression, crying, "murder!" with all +the strength of his lungs; and even in his terror and excitement +varied this expression by giving the alarm of "fire!"--for what +reason, he always declined to explain, even to his most intimate +friends. + +Verty did not even smile, though he remained for a moment motionless, +looking at Mr. Jinks. + +Then touching Cloud with his heel, he set forward again, followed by +the dignified Longears. As for Longears, we regret to say, that, on +the occasion in question, he did not comport himself with that high +decorum and stately courtesy which were such distinguishing traits +in his elevated character. His mouth slowly opened--his lips curled +around his long, white teeth, and his visage was shaken with a +nervous tremor, as, looking over his shoulder, he went on in Cloud's +footsteps. Longears was laughing--positively laughing--at Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman ceased crying "fire!" and "murder!" as soon as he came +to the conclusion that there was no danger from the one or the other. +He picked up his sword, looked around him cautiously, and seeing that +no one had observed his flight, immediately assumed his habitual air +of warlike dignity, and extended his hand--which held the hilt of his +undrawn sword--toward Verty. This gesture was so tragic, and replete +with such kingly ferocity, that Mr. Jinks was plainly devoting Verty +to the infernal gods; and the curses trembling on his lips confirmed +this idea. + +He was standing in this melo-dramatic attitude, gazing after the +Indian, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and heard a jovial +voice say, "How are you, Jinks, my boy! What's the fun?" + +The voice was that of Mr. Ralph Ashley. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +MR. JINKS ON HORSE-BACK, GOING TO TAKE REVENGE. + + +Jinks remained silent a moment. Standing face to face, the two +personages surveyed each other in silence--the one laughing, joyous, +ready for any amusement which would be so obliging as to turn up; +the other stately, warlike, and breathing terrible and malignant +vengeance. + +Ralph laughed. + +"I say, old fellow, what's the matter?" he asked; "you look decidedly +blood-thirsty." + +"I am, sir!" + +"By Jove! I don't doubt it: you resemble Achilles, when he and +Agamemnon had their miff. What's the odds?" + +"I have been insulted, sir!" + +"Insulted?" + +"And tricked!" + +"Impossible." + +Jinks remained silent for a moment, looking after Verty. + +"Yes," he said, with an awful scowl, "that young man has robbed me of +my mistress--" + +"Who--Verty?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Ralph burst out laughing. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked Jinks, with dignity. + +"At your falling in love with Redbud Summers." + +"I am not, sir; perhaps in light moments I may have made that youthful +damsel a few gallant speeches; but I did not refer to her, sir." + +"To whom, then?" + +"To the perfidious Sallianna." + +"Oh!" cried Ralph, restraining his laughter by a powerful effort. + +"What surprises you, sir?" + +"Nothing." + +"You laugh." + +"Can't help it. The idea of your thinking Verty your rival in the +affections of Miss Sallianna! Jinks, my boy, you are blinded with +love--open your eyes, and don't think you can see while they are +closed. I tell you, Verty is in love with Redbud--I know it, sir. Or, +if he is not with Redbud, it's Fanny. No, I don't think it is Fanny," +murmured Ralph, with a thoughtful expression; "I think I'm safe there. +A dangerous rival!" + +And Ralph smiled at his own thoughts. + +"What did you say, sir?" asked Jinks, frowning in the direction of the +Bower of Nature. + +"Nothing, my boy; but I say, Jinks, what makes you look so fierce? You +resemble an ogre--you're not going to eat Mr. Verty?" + +"No, sir; but I'm going to call him to account. If he is not my rival, +he has stood in my way." + +"How!" + +"The perfidious Sallianna has fallen in love with him!" + +And Jinks groaned. + +Ralph took his arm with a sympathizing expression, and restraining a +violent burst of laughter, said: + +"Is it possible! But I knew something must have happened to make you +so angry." + +"Say furious!" + +"Are you furious?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Come, now, I'll bet a pistole to a penny that you are revengeful in +your present feelings. + +"I am, sir!" + +"What can you do?" + +"I can defy my enemy." + +"Oh, yes! I really forgot that; I must be present, recollect, at the +encounter." + +"You may, sir! I shall spit him upon my sword!" + +And Jinks, with a terrible gesture, transfixed imaginary enemies +against the atmosphere. + +Ralph choked as he gazed at Mr. Jinks, and shaking with pent up +laughter: + +"Can't you find something, Jinks, for me to do?" he said, "this affair +promises to be interesting." + +"You may carry the challenge I propose writing, if you will, sir." + +"If I will! as if I would not do ten times as much for my dear friend +Jinks." + +"Thanks, sir." + +"Promise me one thing, however." + +"What is it, sir?" + +"To be cool." + +"I am cool--I'll throttle her!" + +"Throttle!" + +"Yes, sir; annihilate her!" + +"Her!" + +"Yes, the treacherous Sallianna. She has made me wretched +forever--lacerated my existence, and I am furious, sir; I do not deny +it." + +"Furious?" + +"Yes, sir; furious, and I have reason to be, sir. I am ferocious, sir; +I am overwhelmed with rage!" + +And Jinks ground his teeth. + +"What, at a woman?" + +"At a perfidious woman." + +"Fie, Jinks! is it credible that a man of your sense should pay the +sex so high a compliment?" + +This view seemed to strike Mr. Jinks, and clearing his throat: + +"Hum--ah--well," he said, "the fact is, sir, my feeling is rather one +of contempt than anger. But other things have occurred this morning to +worry me." + +"What?" + +Jinks circumstantially detailed his interview with O'Brallaghan, +adding the somewhat imaginary incident of the loss of O'Brallaghan's +left ear by a sweep of his, Jinks', sword. + +"What! you cut off his ear!" cried Ralph. + +"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Jinks, "close to the caitiff's head!" + +"Jinks! I admire you!" + +"It was nothing--nothing, sir!" + +"Yes it was. It equals the most splendid achievements of antiquity." + +And Ralph chuckled. + +"He deserved it, sir," said Mr. Jinks, with modest dignity. + +"Yes--you had your revenge." + +"I will have more." + +"Why, are you not satisfied?" + +"No!" + +"You will still pursue with your dreadful enmity the unfortunate +O'Brallaghan?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Well, I'll assist you." + +"It is my own quarrel. The house of Jinks, sir, can right its own +wrongs." + +"No doubt; but remember one circumstance. I myself hate O'Brallaghan +with undying enmity." + +"How is that, sir?" + +"Can't you guess?" + +"No." + +"Why, he had the audacity to sell my plum-colored coat and and the +rest of my suit to this Mr. Verty." + +"Oh--yes." + +"Abominable conduct! only because I did not call at the very moment to +try on the suit. He would 'make me another,' forsooth, 'in the twinkle +of an eye;' and then he began to pour out his disagreeable blarney. +Odious fellow!" + +And Ralph turned aside his head to laugh. + +"Leave him to me," said Mr. Jinks, arranging his sword with grace and +dignity at his side; "if you wish to assist me, however, you may, sir. +Let us now enter this tavern, and partake of rum and crackers." + +"By all means--there is just time." + +"How, sir?" asked Mr. Jinks, as they moved toward the tavern. + +"I have just ordered my horse." + +"To ride?" + +"Yes." + +Jinks sighed. + +"I must purchase a steed myself," he said. + +"Yes?" rejoined Ralph. + +"Yes. To make my visit to the perfidious Sallianna." + +Ralph laughed. + +"I thought you had abandoned her?" + +"Never!" + +"You wish to go and see her?" + +"I will go this day!" + +"Good! take half of my horse." + +"Half?" + +"Ride behind." + +"Hum!" + +"Come, my dear fellow, don't be bashful. He's a beautiful steed--look +there, through the window." + +"I see him--but think of the figure we would cut." + +"Two sons of Aymon!" laughed Ralph. + +"I understand: of Jupiter Ammon," said Jinks; "but my legs, sir--my +legs?" + +"What of 'em?" + +"They require stirrups." + +"All fancy--your legs, my dear Jinks, are charming. I consider them +the chief ornament you possess." + +"Really, you begin to persuade me," observed Mr. Jinks, becoming +gradually tractable under the effect of the rum which he had been +sipping for some minutes, and gazing complacently at his grasshopper +continuations in their scarlet stockings. + +"Of course," Ralph replied, "so let us set out at once." + +"Yes, yes! revenge at once!" + +And the great Jinks wiped his mouth with the back of his +hands;--brought his sword-belt into position, and assuming a manner of +mingled dignity and ferocity, issued forth with Ralph. + +The latter gentleman, laughing guardedly, mounted into the saddle, and +then rode to the spot at which Jinks awaited him. + +"Come," he said, "there's no time to be lost;--recollect, your rival +has gone before!" + +The thought inspired Mr. Jinks with supernatural activity, and making +a leap, he lit, so to speak, behind Ralph, much after the fashion of a +monkey falling on the bough of a cocoanut tree. + +The leap, however, had been somewhat too vigorous, and Mr. Jinks found +one of his grasshopper legs under the animal; while the other extended +itself at right-angles, in a horizontal position, to the astonishment +of the hostler standing by. + +"All right!" cried Ralph, with a roar of laughter. + +And setting spur to the terrified animal, he darted from the door, +followed by general laughter and applause, with which the clattering +of Mr. Jinks' sword, and the cries he uttered, mingled pleasantly. +This was the manner in which Jinks set out for revenge. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +AN OLD BIBLE. + + +On the morning of the day upon which the events we have just related +occurred, little Redbud was sitting at her window, reading by the red +light of sunrise. + +If anything is beautiful in this world, assuredly it is the fresh, +innocent face of a child, flooded with the deep gold of sunrise, and +with cheeks still bathed in the delicate rose-bloom of slumber. + +Morning and childhood go together, as all things pure, and fresh, and +tender do; and in the face of the child, sitting there in the quiet +morning, an imaginative mind might have discerned, without difficulty, +more than one point of resemblance. The dews sparkling like diamonds +on the emerald grasses, were not brighter or fresher than her +eyes;--the merry breeze might have been gayer, but had not half as +much thoughtful joy and tenderness as her gentle laugh;--the rosy +flush of morning, with all its golden splendor, as of fair Aurora +rising to her throne, was not more fair than the delicate cheek. + +In a single word, Miss Redbud--about whom we always grow +extravagant--was a worthy portion of the bright, fresh morning; and +the hardest-hearted individual who ever laughed at childhood, and +innocence and joy, (and there are some, God help them,) would have +thought the place and time more cheerful and inspiring for her +presence. + +Redbud had been reading from a book which lay upon the window-sill. +The idle breeze turned over the leaves carelessly as though, like a +child, it were looking for pictures; and the words, "From dear Mamma," +were seen upon the fly-leaf--in the rough uncouth characters of +childhood. + +This was Redbud's Bible--and she had been reading it; and had raised +her happy eyes from the black heavy letters, to the waving variegated +trees and the bright sunrise, overwhelming them with its flush of +gold. Redbud was clad, as usual, very simply--her hair brushed back, +and secured, after the fashion of the time, with a bow of ribbon--her +arms bare to the elbow, with heavy falling sleeves--her neck +surrounded with a simple line of lace. Around her neck she wore the +coral necklace we have seen her purchase. + +The girl gazed for some moments at the crimson and yellow trees, on +which a murmurous laughter of mocking winds arose, at times, and +rustled on, and died away into the psithurisma of Theocritus; and the +songs of the oriole and mocking-bird fluttering among the ripe fruit, +or waving up into the sky, brought a pleasant smile to her lips. The +lark, too, was pouring from the clouds, where he circled and flickered +like a ball of light, the glory of his song; and from an old, dead +oak, which raised its straight trunk just without the garden, came +the quick rattle of the woodpecker's bill, or the scream of that +red-winged drummer, as he darted off, playing and screaming, with his +fellows. + +Beyond the garden all the noble autumn forests waved away in magic +splendor--red, and blue, and golden. The oaks were beautiful with +their waving leaves--the little alder tree exquisite in its faint +saffron--the tall, tapering pines rose from the surrounding foliage +like straight spears, which had caught on their summits royal robes +of emerald velvet, green at first, but, when the red light fell upon +them, turning to imperial purple, as of old, Emperors of Rome! + +All these sights and sounds were pleasant things to Redbud, and she +gazed and listened to them with a species of tranquil pleasure, which +made her tender face very beautiful. At last her eyes returned to her +old Bible, and she began to read again from the sacred book. + +She turned the leaf, and came to a passage around which faint lines +were traced in faded ink;--the words thus marked were those of St. +Paul, so sublime in their simplicity, so grand in their quiet majesty: + +"Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ." + +These words had been marked by Redbud's mother, and as the child gazed +upon the faded ink, and thought of the dear hand which had rested upon +the page, a tender regret betrayed itself in her veiled eyes, and her +lips murmured, wistfully, "Mamma." Her down-cast eyes were veiled by +the long lashes; and the child's thoughts went back to the old happy +days, when her mother had taught her to pray, joining her infant +hands, and telling her about God and all his goodness. + +It was not grief which the child felt, as her mental glance thus went +backward to the time when her mother was alive;--rather a tender joy, +full of pure love, and so far separated from the world, or the things +of the world, that her face grew holy, as if a light from heaven +streamed upon it. Oh, yes! she needed no one to tell her that her dear +mother's desire had been fulfilled--that she was with Christ; and her +heart rose in prayer to the Giver of all good, to bless and purify +her, and give her power to conquer all her evil thoughts--and passing +through the toils and temptations of the world, come finally to that +happy land where her dear mother lived and loved--from which she +looked upon her child. She prayed to be kept thus pure; for strength +to resist her sinful inclinations, ill-temper, discontent and +uncharitable thoughts; for power to divorce her thoughts from the +world, spite of its sunshine, and bright flowers and attractions--to +feel that holy desire to be with the dear Savior who had died for her. + +The child rose with a countenance that was sacred for its purity, and +hopefulness, and trust. She gazed again upon the brilliant morning +land, and listened to the birds, and smiled--for in the sunlight, and +the carol of the bright-winged oriole, and every murmur of the merry +wind, she felt the presence of a loving and All-merciful Creator, who +would bless her, if she loved and obeyed Him. + +And so the tender eyes again beamed with the unclouded light of +childhood, and the lips were again calm and happy. The child had +sought for peace and joy from the great central source, and found it. +Everything was now delightful--all the clouds had passed--and a bright +smile illumined her fresh face, and made the sunlight envious, as it +poured its fresh golden radiance upon her brow and cheek. + +Redbud had just closed her Bible, and was about to put it away upon +the shelf, when a light step was heard in the room, and a laughing +voice cried, "Well, miss!" and two white arms encircled her neck, two +red lips imprinted a kiss upon her cheek. + +The arms and the lips belonged to Fanny. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +FANNY'S VIEWS UPON HERALDRY. + + +Fanny was overflowing with laughter, and her face was the perfection +of glee. Her dark eyes fairly danced, and the profuse black curls +which rippled around her face, were never still for a moment. + +In her hand Miss Fanny carried a wreath of primroses and other +children of the autumn, which spread around them as she came a faint +perfume. From the appearance of the young lady's feet, it seemed that +she had gathered them herself. Her shoes and ankles, with their white +stockings, were saturated with the dews of morning. + +After imprinting upon Miss Redbud's cheek the kiss which we have +chronicled, Fanny gaily raised the yellow wreath, and deposited it +upon the young girl's head. + +"There, Redbud!" she cried, "I declare, you look prettier than ever!" + +Redbud smiled, with an affectionate glance at her friend. + +"Oh!" cried the impulsive Fanny, "there you are, laughing at me, as +much as to say that you are not pretty! Affected!" + +"Oh, no," said Redbud. + +"Well, I don't say you are." + +"I don't like affectation." + +"Nor I," said Fanny; "but really, Reddy, I had no idea that yellow was +so becoming to you." + +"Why?" asked Redbud, smiling. + +"You are blonde, you know." + +"Well." + +"I wonder if blonde don't mean yellow," said the philosophic Fanny. + +"Does it?" + +"Yes." + +"What then?" + +"Why, of course, I thought yellow primroses would'nt become you;--now +they would suit me--I'm so dark." + +"You do not need them." + +"Fie--Miss Flatterer." + +"Oh, no, Fanny, I never flatter." + +"Well, I'm glad you like me, then!" cried Fanny, "for I declare +I'm desperately in love with you, Reddy. Just think, now, how much +flattered Miss Sallianna would have been if I had carried these +flowers to her--you know she loves the 'beauties of nature.'" + +And Miss Fanny assumed a languishing air, and inclining her head upon +one shoulder, raised her eyes lackadaisically toward the ceiling, in +imitation of Miss Sallianna. + +"No, Fanny!" said Redbud, "that is not right." + +"What?" + +"Mimicking Miss Sallianna." + +"Not right!" + +"No, indeed." + +"Well, I suppose it is not, and I have been treating her very badly. +Suppose I take your wreath of yellow primroses and carry them to her." + +"Oh, yes--if you want to," said Redbud, looking regretfully at the +wreath, which she had taken from her brow. + +Fanny laughed. + +"No, I will not," she said; "I have a good reason." + +"What?" + +"The axiom in heraldry." + +"What axiom?" + +"Never put color upon color--yellow upon yellow in this instance!" + +And Miss Fanny burst into laughter, and fairly shook with glee. + +Redbud gave her a little reproachful glance, which showed Fanny the +uncharitable nature of her observation. + +"Well," said the owner of the soiled ankles, "I ought not to have +said that; but really, she is so ridiculous! She thinks she's the +handsomest person in the world, and I do believe she wants to rob us +of our beaux." + +Redbud smiled, and lightly colored. + +"I mean Verty and Ralph," Fanny went on, "and I know something is +going on. Miss Sallianna is always in love with somebody; it was Mr. +Jinks the other day, and now I think it is one of our two visitors." + +"Oh, Fanny!" + +"Yes, I do! you need'nt look so incredulous--I believe she would +flirt with either of them, and make love to them; which," added the +philosophic Fanny, "is only another phrase for the same thing." + +Redbud remained for a moment confused, and avoiding Fanny's glance. +Then her innocent and simple smile returned, and leaning her arm +affectionately upon the young girl's shoulder, she said, seriously: + +"Fanny, please don't talk in that way. You know Verty is not an +ordinary young gentleman--" + +"Oh, no--!" cried Fanny, laughing. + +"I mean," Redbud went on, with a slight color in her cheek, "I mean, +to amuse himself with compliments and pretty speeches--if Miss +Sallianna thinks he is, she is mistaken." + +"Odious old thing!--to be flirting with all the young men who come to +see _us_!" said Fanny. + +"No, no," Redbud went on, "I think you are mistaken. But as you have +mentioned Verty, please promise me one thing, Fanny." + +"Promise! certainly, Reddy; just ask me whatever you choose. If it's +to cut off my head, or say I think Miss Sallianna pretty, I'll do +it--such is my devotion to you!" laughed Fanny. + +Redbud smiled. + +"Only promise me to amuse Verty, when he comes." + +"Amuse him!" + +"Yes." + +"What do you mean." + +"I mean," Redbud said, sighing, "that I don't think I shall be able to +do so." + +"What!" + +"Fanny, you cannot understand," said the young girl, with a slight +blush; "I hope, if you are my real friend, as you say, that you will +talk with Verty, when he comes, and make his time pass agreeably." + +Redbud's head sank. + +Fanny gazed at her for a moment in silence, and with a puzzled +expression, said: + +"What has happened, Reddy, between you and Verty--anything?" + +"Oh, no." + +"You are blushing! Something must have happened." + +"Fanny--" murmured Redbud, and then stopped. + +"Have you quarreled? You would'nt explain that scene in the parlor the +other day, when I made him tie my shoe. You have quarreled!" + +"Oh, no--no!" + +"I'm glad to hear it," cried Fanny, "though I could easily have made it +up. I would have gone to Mr. Verty, and told him that he was a wretch, +or something of that sort, and made him come and be friends again." + +Redbud smiled, and said: + +"We have not quarreled; but I don't think I shall be able to amuse +him very much, if he comes this morning, as I think he will. Please +promise me--I don't like Verty to be unhappy." + +And the ingenuous face of the young girl was covered with blushes. + +"I suppose not!--you and Verty are very good friends!" cried Fanny, +looking out of the window, and not observing Redbud's confusion; "but +suppose _my_ cavalier comes--what then, madam?" + +"Oh, then I absolve you." + +"No, indeed!" + +"'No, indeed' what?" + +"I won't be absolved." + +"Why?" + +"Because I don't know but I prefer Mr. Verty to that conceited cousin +of mine." + +"What cousin--not Ralph?" + +"Yes; I don't fancy him much." + +"I thought you were great favorites of each other." + +"You are mistaken!" said Fanny, coloring; "I did like him once, but he +has come back from college at Williamsburg a perfect coxcomb, the most +conceited fop I ever saw." + +"Oh, Fanny!" + +"Yes, indeed he has!" + +And Miss Fanny blushed. + +"I hate him!" she added, with a pout; then bursting into a fit of +laughter, this young lady added: + +"Oh! he promised to bring his album to-day, and show me all the 'good +wishes' his friends wrote in it for him. Won't that be funny! Just +think of finding out how those odious young college geese talk and +feel toward each other." + +Redbud smiled at Miss Fanny's consistency, and was about to reply, +when the bell for prayers rang. + +The two young girls rose, and smoothing their hair slowly, descended, +arm in arm, and still conversing, to the dining-room, where old +Scowley, as Verty called her, and Miss Sallianna, awaited them, in +state, with their scholars. + +Prayer was succeeded by breakfast; and then--the young damsels having +eaten with the most unromantic heartiness--the whole school scattered: +some to walk toward "town;" others to stroll by the brook, at the foot +of the hill; others again to write letters home. + +As Miss Sallianna had informed Verty, that day was a holiday, +and young ladies going to school have, in all ages of the world, +appreciated the beauties and attractions of this word, and what it +represents--recreation, that is to say. + +Redbud and Fanny strolled out in the garden with their arms locked as +before, and the merry autumn sunshine streaming on them. + +They had a thousand things to talk about, and we may be sure that they +did not neglect the opportunity. What do _not_ young ladies at school +discuss? Scarcely anything escapes, and these criticisms are often +very trenchant and severe. + +How they criticise the matrimonial alliance between aged Dives with +his crutch and money-bags, and the fascinating and artless Miss Sans +Avoir, who dedicates her life to making happy the old gentleman! + +How gaily do they pull in pieces the beautiful natural curls of Mr. +Adonis, who purchased them at the perruquier's; and how they scalp +Miss Summer Morning, with her smiles and bright-eyed kindness, in the +presence of gentlemen--while behind the scenes she is a mixture of the +tigress and the asp! All these social anomalies do young ladies at +school talk about--as do those who have left school also. + +But Redbud and Fanny did not--they were far too good-natured to take +pleasure in such comments, and instead, spent the hours in laughing, +playing and reading in the pleasant arbor. Thus the morning drew on, +and the lovely autumn day sailed past with all its life and splendor +toward the west. Fanny was gazing toward the house, as they thus sat +in the arbor, and Redbud was smiling, when a gentleman, clothed in a +forest costume, and carrying a rifle, made his appearance at the door +of the Bower of Nature. + +"Oh, Reddy!" cried Fanny, "there's your friend, Verty; and look what a +fright he is!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +HOW MISS SALLIANNA ALLUDED TO VIPERS, AND FELL INTO HYSTERICS. + + +Verty paused upon the threshold of the mansion to push back his long, +curling hair; and with a glance behind him, toward Cloud, meant as +a caution to that intelligent animal and to Longears, deposited his +rifle against the door. + +The young man, as we have said, had once more donned his rude forest +costume; and even at the risk of appearing to undervalue the graces +and attractions of civilization with the costume, which is a necessary +part thereof, we must say that the change was an improvement. +Verty's figure, in the dress which he generally wore, was full +of picturesqueness and wild interest. He looked like a youthful +Leather-stocking; and seemed to be a part of the forest in which he +lived, and from which he came. + +He had been cramped in the rich clothes; and the consciousness of this +feeling, so to speak, had made his manner stiff and unnatural; now, +however, he was forest Verty again. His long hair had already become +tangled, thanks to the autumn winds, and the gallop to which he had +pushed Cloud;--his person assumed its habitual attitude of wild grace; +his eye no longer restless and troubled, had recovered its expression +of dreamy mobility, and his lips were wreathed with the odd Indian +smile, which just allowed the ends of the white teeth to thread +them;--Verty was himself again. + +He raised his head, and would have caught sight of the young girls in +the garden, but for a circumstance which occurred just at that moment. + +This circumstance was the appearance of Miss Sallianna--Miss Sallianna +arrayed in all her beauties and attractions, including a huge +breastpin, a dress of enormous pattern, and a scarf around her +delicate waist, azure-hued and diaphanous like the sky, veiled with an +imperceptible cloud. + +The lady was smiling more than ever; her air was more languishing; her +head inclined farther to one side. Such was her ecstacy of "inward +contemplation," to use her favorite phrase, that the weight of thought +bent down her yellow eye-lashes and clouded her languishing eyes. + +She raised them, however, and glancing at Verty, started. + +"Good-morning, ma'am," said Verty--"Miss, I mean. I got your letter." + +"Good-morning, sir," said Miss Sallianna, with some stiffness; "where +are your clothes?" + +Verty stared at Miss Sallianna with great astonishment, and said: + +"My clothes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"These are my clothes." + +And Verty touched his breast. + +"No, sir!" said Miss Sallianna. + +"Not mine?" + +"They may be yours, sir; but I do not call them clothes--they are mere +covering." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty. + +"They are barbarous." + +"How, ma'am?" + +Miss Sallianna tossed her head. + +"It is not proper!" she said. + +"What, ma'am?" + +"Coming to see a lady in that plight." + +"This plight?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Not proper?" + +"No, sir!" + +"Why not?" + +"Because, sir, when a gentleman comes to pay his respects to a lady, +it is necessary that he should be clad in a manner, consistent with +the errand upon which he comes." + +"_Anan_, ma'am'?" + +"Goodness gracious!" cried Miss Sallianna, forgetting her attitudes, +and vigorously rubbing her nose; "did any body ever?" + +"Ever what, ma'am?" + +"Ever see a person so hard to understand as you are, sir." + +"I don't understand long words," said Verty; "and you know I am an +Indian." + +"I knew you _were_, sir." + +Verty shook his head, and smiling dreamily: + +"I always will be that," he said. + +"Then, sir, we cannot be friends--" + +"Why, ma'am--I mean, Miss?" + +"Because, sir, the properties of civilization require a mutual +criterion of excellence--hem!" + +"Oh yes," said Verty, very doubtfully, and checking by an effort his +eternal exclamation of ignorance; "but I thought you liked me." + +"I do, sir," said Miss Sallianna, with more mildness--"I thought we +should be friends." + +Verty smiled. + +"What a funny letter you wrote to me," he said. + +"Funny, sir?" said Miss Sallianna, blushing. + +"Very pretty, too." + +"Oh, sir!" + +"But I did'nt understand more than half of it," said Verty with his +old dreamy smile. + +"Pray why, sir?" + +"The words were so long." + +Miss Sallianna looked gratified. + +"They were expressive, sir, of the reciprocal sensation which beats in +my heart." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Verty. + +"But recollect, sir, that this sentiment is dependent upon exterior +circumstances. I positively cannot receive you in that savage dress." + +"Not receive me?" + +"No, sir." + +"What's the matter with my poor dress?" + +"It's abominable, sir--oderous; and then your hair--" + +"My hair?" said Verty, pulling at a curl. + +"Yes, sir--it is preposterous, sir. Did any body ever!" + +And Miss Sallianna carried her eyes to heaven. + +"I don't know," Verty said; "but it feels better." + +"It may, sir; but you must cut it off if you come again." + +Verty hesitated. + +"I thought--" he began. + +"Well, sir?" + +"I was thinking," said the young man, feeling a vague idea that he was +going wrong--"I thought that you were not so very particular, as you +are only a school-mistress, and not one of those fine ladies I have +seen riding by in their carriages. They might think some ceremony +needed--" + +"Not a--very well, sir--a schoolmistress--only--indeed!" said Miss +Sallianna, with dignity. + +Verty was too little acquainted with the expression of concentrated +feeling to understand these words, and smiling, + +"Then," he said, "there was another reason--" + +"For what, sir?" said Miss Sallianna, with great dignity. + +"For my not being very particular." + +"Please state it, sir." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +The lady sniffed with indignation. + +"I meant," said Verty, "that as you had very few beaux here--I believe +you call 'em beaux--I could come so. I know that Mr. Jinks comes, +but he is too fierce to be agreeable, and is not very nice, I should +think." + +Miss Sallianna darted a glance of scorn at the unlucky Verty, which +would have transfixed that gentleman; but unfortunately he did not see +it. + +"Yes," he went on, "there is a great deal of difference, Miss +Sallianna, between coming to see you, who are only a schoolmistress, +and hav'nt much fine company, and the rich ladies;--then you know I +thought that the difference between our ages--you being so much older +than I. am, about thirty or thirty-five, I suppose--" + +The cup was full. + +"Mr. Verty," gasped Miss Sallianna, "you will please to end our +interview at once, sir!--this language, sir, is intolerated, sir!--if +you wish to insult me, sir, you can remain!--I consider your +insinuations, sir, as unworthy of a gentleman. The viper!" cried Miss +Sallianna, becoming hysterical, and addressing her observations to +the ceiling; "the viper which I warmed in my bosom, and who turns and +rents me." + +Which was very ungallant in the viper not to say extraordinary, as it +implied that vipers dwelt in houses "to let." + +"Who beguiled himself into this resort of innocence, and attacked my +suspicious nature--and now casts reproaches on my station in society +and my youth!" + +"Oh, ma'am!" cried Verty. + +"Don't speak to me, sir! + +"No, ma'am." + +"Your very presence is deletrious." + +"Oh, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Go sir--go!" + +"Yes, ma'am--but are you well enough?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Have a glass of water?" + +"No, sir!" + +"I'm so sorry I said anything to--" + +"There is reason, sir." + +"You don't hate me?" + +"No, sir!" said Miss Sallianna, relenting, and growing gradually +calmer; "I pity and forgive you." + +"Will you shake hands?" + +"Yes, sir--I am forgiving, sir--" + +"At your time of life you know, ma'am, we ought'nt to--" + +Unfortunate Verty; the storm which was subsiding arose again in all +its original strength. + +"Leave me!" cried Miss Sallianna, with a tragic gesture. + +"Yes, ma'am--but--" + +"Mr. Verty?" + +"Ma'am!" + +"Your presence is opprobrious." + +"Oh, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Yes, sir--intolerant." + +"I'm so sorry." + +"Therefore, sir, go and leave me to my thoughts again--go, sir, and +make merry with your conjugal companions!" + +"Yes, ma'am," said Verty; "but I did'nt mean to worry you. Please +forgive me--" + +"Go, sir!" + +Verty saw that this tragic gesture indicated a determination which +could not be disputed. + +He therefore put on his hat, and having now caught sight of Fanny and +Redbud, bowed to his companion, and went--into the garden. + +Miss Sallianna gasped, and sinking into a chair, fell into violent +hysterics, in which numerous allusions were made to vipers. Poor +Verty! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +HOW MISS FANNY MADE MERRY WITH THE PASSION OF MR. VERTY. + + +Verty approached the two young girls and took off his hat. + +"Good morning, Redbud," he said, gently. + +Redbud blushed slightly, but, carried back to the old days by Verty's +forest costume, quickly extended her hand, and forgetting Miss +Lavinia's advice, replied, with a delightful mixture of kindness and +tenderness: + +"I'm very glad to see you, Verty." + +The young man's face became radiant; he completely lost sight of the +charge against the young lady made in Miss Sallianna's letter. He was +too happy to ever think of it; and would have stared Redbud out +of countenance for very joy and satisfaction, had not Miss Fanny, +naturally displeased at the neglect with which she had been treated, +called attention to herself. + +"Hum!" said that young lady, indignantly, "I suppose, Mr. Verty, I +am too small to be seen. Pray, acknowledge the fact of my existence, +sir." + +"_Anan_?" said Verty, smiling. + +Fanny stamped her pretty foot, and burst out laughing. + +"It's easy to see what is the matter with you!" she laughed. + +"Why, there's nothing," said Verty. + +"Yes, there is." + +"What?" + +"You're in love." + +Verty laughed and blushed. + +"There!" cried Fanny, "I knew it." + +"I believe I am." + +"Listen to him, Redbud!" + +"She knows it," said Verty. + +"Hum! I don't see how anybody can help knowing it." + +"Why?" + +"Because it is plain." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, sir; this very moment you showed it." + +"Yes--I believe I did." + +"Odious old thing!" + +"Who?" + +"Why, Miss Sallianna, sir--I don't care if you _are_ paying your +addresses! I say she's an odious old thing!--to be giving herself +airs, and setting her cap at all our beaux!" + +Verty stared, and then laughed. + +"Miss Sallianna!" he cried. + +"Yes, sir!" + +"I'm in love with her!" + +"You've just acknowledged it." + +"Acknowledged it!" + +"There! you're going to deny your own words, like the rest of your +fine sex--the men." + +"No--I did'nt say I was in love with Miss Sallianna." + +"Did'nt he, Redbud?" asked Fanny, appealing to her friend. + +"No," said Verty, before she could reply; "I said I was in love with +Redbud!" + +And the ingenuous face of the young man was covered with blushes. + +Fanny fairly shook with laughter. + +"Oh," she screamed, "and you think I am going to believe that--when +you spend the first half an hour of your visit with Miss +Sallianna--talking, I suppose, about the 'beauties of nature!'" + +And the young girl clapped her hands. + +"I wanted"--commenced Verty-- + +"Oh, don't tell me what you wanted!" cried Fanny; "you saw in the +garden here two nice young girls, if I do say it--" + +"You may--!" + +"I am not to be led off in that way, sir! I say you saw two agreeable +young ladies here evidently not indisposed to talk with visitors, as +it's a holiday--and in spite of that, you pass your time in the house +with that old Sallianna, cooing and wooing and brewing," added Miss +Fanny, inventing a new meaning for an old word on the spur of the +moment, "and after that you expect us to believe you when you say you +are not in love with her--though what you see to like in that old +thing it would take a thousand million sybils, to say nothing of +oracles and Pythonesses, to explain!" + +With which exhausting display of erudition, Miss Fanny lay back on her +trellised seat, and shook from the point of her slippers to the curls +on her forehead with a rush of laughter. + +Redbud had recovered from her momentary confusion, and, with a +beseeching glance at Fanny, said to Verty: + +"How much better you look, Verty, in this dress--indeed you look more +homelike." + +"Do I?" said the happy Verty, bending his head over his shoulder to +admire the general effect; "well, I feel better." + +"I should think so." + +"The other clothes were like a turkey blind." + +"A turkey blind?" + +"Oh, you smile!--but you know, when you are lying in the blind, the +pine limbs rub against you." + +"Yes." + +"Then they did'nt suit me." + +"No," assented Redbud. + +"_I_ don't dance the minuet--so I did'nt want high-healed shoes--" + +Fanny began to laugh again. + +"Nor a cocked hat; the fact is, I do not know how to bow." + +"See! Come, Mr. Fisher-for-Compliments!" cried Fanny. + +"Oh, I never do!" + +"Well, I believe you don't." + +"Does anybody?" + +"Yes; that odious cousin of mine--that's who does--the conceited +coxcomb!" + +"Your cousin!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Who is it?" + +"Ralph Ashley." + +"Oh--and he comes to see you--and--Miss Sallianna; she said--" + +Verty's head drooped, and a shadow passed over his ingenuous face. + +"There, you're thinking of Miss Sallianna again!" + +"No--no," murmured Verty, gazing at Redbud with a melancholy +tenderness, and trying to understand whether there could possibly be +any foundation for Miss Sallianna's charge, that that young lady was +in love with Mr. Ralph Ashley. + +"Could it be? Oh, no, no!" + +"Could what be?" asked Fanny. + +For once Verty was reserved. + +"Nothing," he said. + +But still he continued to gaze at Redbud with such sad tenderness, +that a deep color came into her cheek, and her eyes were cast down. + +She turned away; and then Miss Lavinia's advice came to her mind, and +with a sorrowful cloud upon her face, she reproached herself for the +kindness of her manner to Verty, in their present interview. + +"I think I'll go and gather some flowers, yonder," she said, smiling +faintly, and with a sad, kind look to Verty, in spite of all. "Fanny +and yourself can talk until I return, you know--" + +"Let me go with you," said Verty, moving to her side. + +Redbud hesitated. + +"Come, Redbud!" said Verty, persuasively smiling. + +"Oh, no! I think I would like to get the one's I prefer." + +And she moved away. + +Verty gazed after her with melancholy tenderness--his face lit up with +the old dreamy Indian smile. We need not say that the notable scheme +suggested by Miss Sallianna--namely, his making love to some one else +to try Redbud--had never crossed the ingenuous mind of the young man. +From that pure mirror the obscuring breath soon disappeared. He did +not wish to try Redbud--he loved her too much; and now he remained +silent gazing after her, and wholly unconscious of the existence of +Miss Fanny. + +That young lady pouted, and uttered an expressive "hum!" + +Verty turned his eyes absently toward her. + +"You can go, sir, if you don't like my society--I am not anxious to +detain you!" said Miss Fanny, with refreshing candor. + +"Go where?" said Verty. + +"After Redbud." + +"She don't want me to." + +"Hum!" + +And this little exclamation indicated the light in which Fanny +regarded the excuse. + +Verty continued to gaze toward Redbud, who was gathering flowers. + +"How kind and good she is!" he murmured. + +And these words were accompanied by a smile of so much tender +sincerity, that Fanny relented. + +"Yes, she is!" said that young lady; "I'm glad to see that some of +your sex, sir, have a little taste. It is not their failing." + +"Anan!" said Verty, smiling. + +Fanny laughed; and her good humor began to return completely. + +"I know some who are utterly deficient," she said. + +"In what?" + +"Taste." + +"Yes." + +And Verty gazed after Redbud. + +Fanny burst out laughing; but then remembering her promise to Redbud, +to treat Verty well, and amuse him, checked this exhibition of +satirical feeling, and said: + +"Your taste, Mr. Verty, is such that I ought to quarrel with it--but +I'm not going to;--no, not for fifty thousand worlds! If I have any +quarreling to do, it will be with some one else!" + +"With whom?" + +"That coxcomb cousin of mine, Ralph Ashley." + +Verty's countenance became clouded; it was the second time his rival's +name had been uttered that morning. + +"He is a fop," said Fanny--"a pure, unadulterated, presumptuous and +intolerable fop. As I live, there he is coming up the road! Oh, won't +we have fine times--he promised to show me his college album!" + +And the impulsive Fanny clapped her hands, and more loudly than ever. +Five minutes afterward Mr. Ralph Ashley dismounted at the door of the +Bower of Nature. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +RALPH MAKES LOVE TO MISS SALLIANNA. + + +We shall now return to Miss Sallianna, and see what effect the viper +tendencies of Mr. Verty had produced upon that young lady. + +The hysterics did not last long.. Miss Sallianna had a large and +useful assortment of feminine weapons of this description, and was +proficient in the use of all--from the embarrassed, simpering laugh +and maiden blush, with down-cast eyes, raised suddenly, at times, +toward the "beloved object," then abased again--to the more artistic +and effective weapons of female influence, tears, sobs, convulsions, +hysterics and the rest. In each and all of these accomplishments was +Miss Sallianna versed. + +The hysterics, therefore, did not last long; the eyes grew serene +again very soon; and contenting herself with a few spiteful looks +toward the group in the garden, which glances she accompanied with a +determined and vigorous rubbing of her antique nose, Miss Sallianna +gently raised her fan, and seeing a cavalier approaching from the +town, assumed her habitual air of languishing and meditative grace. + +This cavalier was our friend Ralph, who, having deposited Mr. Jinks +upon the earth before they emerged from the willows in sight of the +Bower of Nature, now came on, laughing, and ready for any adventure +which should present itself. + +Ralph drew up before the house, tied his horse, and entered. + +Miss Sallianna rose graciously, smiling. + +"Good morning, sir," said the lady, rolling her eyes toward the +ceiling, and leaning her head on her right shoulder, "we have a +charming day." + +"Oh, charming! but that is not all, madam," said Ralph, smiling +satirically, as he bent profoundly over the hand given to him. + +"Not all, sir?" sighed the lady. + +"There is something still more charming." + +"What is that?" + +"The dear companion with whom good fortune blesses me." + +This was so very direct, that Miss Sallianna actually blushed. + +"Oh, no--" she murmured. + +"Yes, yes!" + +"You men--" + +"Are sincere--" + +"Oh, no! such flatterers." + +"Flatterers, madam?" said Ralph, laughing, "that is true of some +of us, but not of me; I am so perfectly sincere, and clad in the +simplicity of my nature to that degree, that what I say is the pure +out-gushing of my heart--ahem!" + +The lady smiled, and motioned toward a settee. + +"The beauties of nature--" + +"Yes, my dear madam." + +"Are--ahem!" + +"Yes, yes." + +"So much more beautiful than those of art," sighed Miss Sallianna, +contemplating the ceiling, as though nature had taken up her post +there to be gazed at. + +"I fully agree with you," said Ralph, "they are." + +"Oh, yes--they are--I knew you would--you are so--so remarkable--" + +"No, no, Miss Sallianna!" + +"Yes, you are--for your intrinsic perspicuity, sir--la!" + +And Miss Sallianna ogled her visitor. + +"This," said Ralph, with enthusiasm, "is the proudest moment of my +life. The beautiful Sallianna--" + +"Oh, Mr. Ashley."' + +"Yes, madam!" said Ralph, "torture would not make me change the word." + +"La! Mr. Ashley!" + +"The beautiful Miss Sallianna has declared that I am possessed +of intrinsic perspicuity! I need nothing more. Now let the fates +descend!" + +With which heroic words Mr. Ralph Ashley wiped his brow with solemn +dignity, and chuckled behind his handkerchief. + +"I always admired perspicuity," said Miss Sallianna, with a languid +glance. + +"And I, beauty, madam." + +"La! sir." + +"Admiration is a weak word, Miss Sallianna." + +"Opprobrium?" suggested the lady. + +"Yes, yes! that is the word! Thank you, Miss Sallianna. I am not as +strong in philology as you are. I should have said opprobrium--that is +what I have always regarded beauty, such as yours, all my life." + +Miss Sallianna covered her face with her fan. Here was an opportunity +to supply the place of the faithless Verty and the odious Jinks. +As the thought occurred to her, Miss Sallianna assumed an awful +expression of favor and innocent fondness. Ralph shuddered as he +caught sight of it. + +"Are you fond of ladies, sir?" asked Miss Sallianna, smiling. + +"Yes, Miss Sallianna, devotedly," said Ralph, recovering, in some +degree. + +"I should think so." + +"Why, madam?" + +"From your visits." + +"My visits?" + +"Oh, yes--you are very sly!" + +"Sly?--I?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +"Never!" + +"I think you have grown fond of--" + +"Yourself, madam?" + +"La--no. I fear--" + +"As I do--" + +"That such a thing--" + +"Is more than I could presume to do," said Ralph, laughing. + +Miss Sallianna bestowed upon the young gentleman a look from her +maiden eyes, which seemed to say that he might presume to grow fond of +her, if it had really become necessary to his peace of mind. + +"But I meant Fanny," she said. + +"Fanny!" + +"Yes, your cousin." + +"A mere baby!" said Ralph, with nonchalance. + +"I agree with you." + +"Which I consider a circumstance of great encouragement, Miss +Sallianna. The fact is, Fanny is very well in her way, and in course +of time will make, no doubt, a very handsome woman. But at present I +only call to see her because I have nothing else to do." + +"Indeed?" + +"I am just from college." + +"Yes." + +"And consequently very innocent and inexperienced. I am sure you will +take charge of my education." + +"La! Mr. Ashley." + +"I mean, Miss Sallianna, the education, not of my mind--that is +finished and perfect: Oh, no! not that! The education of my heart!" + +Ralph was getting on at headlong speed. + +"Do you consent?" he said. + +"La--really--indeed--" + +"Why not, oh, beautiful lady--" + +"How can I ever--so inexperienced--so innocent a person as myself can +scarcely--" + +And Miss Sallianna fell into a flutter. + +"Then Fanny must." + +"Oh, no!" observed Miss Sallianna, with vivacity. + +"Why not?" said Ralph. + +"She could not--" + +"Could not!" + +"She is too young, and then besides--" + +"Besides, Miss Sallianna?" + +"She is already taken up with her affair with Mr. Verty." + +"What!" cried Ralph, beginning to have the tables turned upon him, and +to suffer for his quizzing. + +"She is evidently in love with Mr. Verty," said Miss Sallianna, +compassionately; "that is, the child fancies that she feels a rare and +inexpressive delight in his presence. Such children!" + +"Yes, madam!" said Ralph, frowning. + +"Especially that silly young man." + +"Verty?" + +"Yes; he is very presumptuous, too. Just think that he presumed +to--to--make love to me this morning;" and Miss Sallianna's +countenance was covered with a maiden blush. "I could scarcely +persuade him that his attentions were not agreeable." + +And Miss Sallianna looked dignified and ladylike. + +"Fanny in love with him," said Ralph, reflecting. + +"Look through the window," said Miss Sallianna, smiling. + +Ralph obeyed, and beheld Verty and Fanny sitting on a knoll, in the +merriest conversation;--that is to say, Fanny was thus talking. Young +ladies always begin to converse very loud when visitors arrive--for +what reason has not yet been discovered. Verty's absent look in the +direction of Fanny's face might very well have been considered the +stare of a lover. + +"Do you doubt any longer?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then, Mr. Ashley--" + +"Yes, madam." + +"In future you will--" + +"Care nothing for--" + +"The person--" + +"Who seems to me the concentration of folly and everything of that +description--no, madam! In future I will carefully avoid her!" + +And with this ambiguous speech, Mr. Ralph rose, begged Miss Sallianna +to excuse him for a short time, and making her a low and devoted bow, +took his way into the garden, and toward the spot where Fanny and +Verty were sitting. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +VERTY STATES HIS PRIVATE OPINION OF MISS SALLIANNA. + + +Fanny complimented Mr. Ralph Ashley with a very indifferent bow, and +went on talking with, or rather to, her companion Verty. + +Ralph tried to laugh at this; but not succeeding very well, came +suddenly to the very rational conclusion that something unusual was +going on in his breast. He had never before failed to utter the most +contagious laughter, when he attempted the performance--what could the +rather faint sound which now issued from his lips be occasioned by? + +Puzzled, and at his philosophy's end, Ralph began to grow dignified; +when, luckily, Redbud approached. + +The young girl greeted him with one of her kind smiles, and there was +so much light and joy in her face, that Ralph's brow cleared up. + +They began to converse. + +The chapter of accidents, whereof was author that distinguished +inventor of fiction, Miss Sallianna, promised to make the present +interview exceedingly piquant and fruitful in entertaining +misunderstanding; for the reader will observe the situation of the +parties. Miss Sallianna had persuaded Verty that Redbud was in love +with Ralph; and, in the second place, had assured Ralph, a few moments +before, that Fanny was in love with Verty. + +Redbud was clinching Verty's doubts by smiling sweetly on +Ralph;--Fanny was causing dreadful jealousy and conviction of his +misfortune in Ralph, by making herself agreeable to Verty. + +The schemes of the great Amazonian General, Sallianna, seemed to be +crowned with complete success; and, doubtless, all would have turned +out as she desired, but for one of those trivial circumstances which +overturn the most carefully matured conceptions of the greatest +intellects. + +This was the simplicity of our friend Verty; and he unconsciously +commenced the overturning operation by saying: + +"Redbud, did you find the flowers you wanted?" + +The young girl replied: + +"Oh, yes!" + +"'Beauties of nature,' Miss Sallianna would call 'em, would'nt she?" +continued Verty, with a smile. + +"Now, Verty!" said Redbud, reproachfully. + +"I can't help it," returned Verty; "I don't like Miss Sallianna." + +"Not like that paragon!" cried Fanny. + +"No." + +"Why not, sir?" + +"She told me a story." + +"A story, sir!" + +"Yes." + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself to speak so disrespectfully of +such a divine creature--with so much maiden innocence and intrinsic +simplicity," observed Miss Fanny, inclining her head upon one +shoulder, and rolling her eyes toward the sky. + +Ralph began to laugh. + +"I would'nt say it if it was'nt true," Verty said; "but it is." + +"What story did she tell you, sir?" Fanny went on. + +"She said that Redbud was in love with him--Ralph Ashley." + +And Verty smiled. + +Fanny burst into a roar of laughter; Redbud blushed; Ralph looked with +astonishment at the plain-spoken Verty. + +"You know that was a story," said he, simply. + +Everybody remained silent for a moment, and then the silence was +broken by Ralph, who cried, laughing: + +"I'll back you, friend Verty! every word of it!" + +"You, sir!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes! I wonder if your divine creature--Sallianna by name--did not +tell me, ten minutes since, that you--yes, you, Miss Fanny!--were +desperately enamored of Mr. Verty!" + +The whole party were so overcome by this ludicrous expose of Miss +Sallianna's schemes, that a laugh much louder than the first rang +through the garden; and when Miss Sallianna was descried sailing in +dignified meditation up and down the portico, her fan gently waving, +her head inclined to one side, her eyes fixed upon the sky, Mr. Ralph +Ashley entered into a neighboring mass of shrubbery, from which came +numerous choking sounds, and explosive evidences of overwhelming +laughter. + +Thus was it that our honest Verty at once cleared up all +misunderstanding--and made the horizon cloudless once again. If +everybody would only speak as plainly, when misconceptions and +mistakes arise, the world would have far more of sunshine in it! + +"Just to think!" cried Fanny, "how that odious old tatterdemalion has +been going on! Did anybody ever?" + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Sir?" said Fanny. + +"What's a tatterdemalion?" asked the young man, smilingly. + +"I don't exactly know, sir," said Fanny; "but I suppose it's a +conceited old maid; who talks about the beauties of nature, and tries +to make people, who are friends, hate each other." + +With which definition Miss Fanny clenched her handsome little hand, +and made a gesture therewith, in the direction of Miss Sallianna, +indicative of hostility, and a desire to engage in instant combat. + +Ralph laughed, and said: + +"You meant to say, my dear child, that the lady in question tried to +make a quarrel between people who _loved_ each other--not simply 'were +friends'. For you know she tried to make us dislike one another." + +Fanny received this insinuating speech with one of heir expressive +"hums!" + +"Don't you?" said Ralph. + +"What; sir?" + +"Love me!" + +"Oh, devotedly!" + +"Very well; it was not necessary to tell me, and, of course, that +pretty curl of the lip is only to keep up appearances. But come +now, darling of my heart, and light of my existence! as we _hav'nt_ +quarreled, in spite of Miss Sallianna, and still have for each other +the most enthusiastic affection, be good enough to forget these +things, and turn your attention to material affairs. You promised me a +lunch!" + +"Lunch!" + +"Yes--and I am getting hungry." + +"When did I promise?" + +"Yesterday." + +"Oh--now--" + +"You remember; very well. It was to be eaten, you will recollect, on +the hill, yonder, to the west, to which our steps were to tend." + +"Our picnic! Oh, yes! My goodness gracious! how could I forget it! +Come on, Reddie--come and help me to persuade Mrs. Scowley to undo the +preserve-jar." + +Redbud laughed. + +"May I go!" said Verty. + +"Certainly, sir; you are not at liberty to refuse. Who would talk with +Reddie!" + +"I don't think--" murmured Redbud, hesitating. + +"Now!" cried Fanny, "did anybody ever!" + +"Ever what!" said Verty. + +"Ever see anybody like this Miss Redbud!" + +"I don't think they ever did," replied Verty, smiling. + +Which reply caused Miss Fanny and Mr. Ralph to laugh, and Redbud to +color slightly; but this soon passed, and the simple, sincere look +came back to her tender face. + +Redbud could not resist the glowing picture which Fanny drew of the +picnic to be; and, with some misgiving, yielded. In a quarter of +an hour the young men and the young girls were on their way to +the beautiful eminence, swinging the baskets which contained the +commissariat stores, and laughing gleefully. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +HOW LONGEARS SHOWED HIS GALLANTRY IN FANNY'S SERVICE. + + +It was one of those magnificent days of Fall, which dower the world +with such a wealth of golden splendor everywhere--but principally in +the mountains. + +The trees rose like mighty monarchs, clad in royal robes of blue and +yellow, emerald and gold, and crimson; the forest kings and little +princely alders, ashes and red dogwoods, all were in their glory. +Chiefly the emperor tulip-tree, however, shook to the air its noble +vestments, and lit up all the hill-side with its beauty. The streams +ran merrily in the rich light--the oriole swayed upon the gorgeous +boughs and sang away his soul--over all drooped the diaphanous haze of +October, like an enchanting dream. + +To see the mountains of Virginia in October, and not grow extravagant, +is one of those things which rank with the discovery of perpetual +motion--an impossibility. + +Would you have strength and rude might? The oak is, yonder, battered +by a thousand storms, and covered with the rings of forgotten +centuries. Splendor? The mountain banners of the crimson dogwood, red +maple, yellow hickory and chestnut flout the sky--as though all the +nations of the world had met in one great federation underneath the +azure dome not built with hands, and clashed together there the +variegated banners which once led them to war--now beckoning in with +waving silken folds the thousand years of peace! Would you have +beauty, and a tender delicacy of outline and fine coloring? Here +is that too; for over all,--over the splendid emperors and humble +princes, and the red, and blue, and gold, of oak, and hickory, and +maple, droops that magical veil whereof we spoke--that delicate +witchery, which lies upon the gorgeous picture like a spell, melting +the headlands into distant figures, beckoning and smiling, making the +colors of the leaves more delicate and tender--turning the autumn +mountains into a fairy land of unimagined splendor and delight! + +Extravagance is moderation looking upon such a picture. + +Such a picture was unrolled before the four individuals who now took +their way toward the fine hill to the west of the Bower of Nature, and +they enjoyed its beauty, and felt fresher and purer for the sight. + +"Isn't it splendid!" cried Fanny. + +"Oh, yes!" Redbud said, gazing delightedly at the trees and the sky. + +"Talk about the lowland," said Ralph, with patriotic scorn; "I tell +you, my heart's delight, that there is nothing, anywhere below, to +compare with this." + +"Not at Richmond?--but permit me first to ask if your observation was +addressed to me, sir?" said Miss Fanny, stopping. + +"Certainly it was, my own," + +"I am not your own." + +"Aren't you?" + +"No, and I never will be!" + +"Wait till you are asked!" replied Ralph, laughing triumphantly at +this retort. + +"Hum!" exclaimed Fanny. + +"But you asked about Richmond, did you not, my beauty?" + +"Ridiculous!" cried Fanny, laughing; "well, yes, I did." + +"A pretty sort of a place," Ralph replied; "but not comparable to +Winchester." + +"Indeed--I thought differently." + +"That's not to the purpose--you are no judge of cities." + +"Hum! I suppose you are." + +"Of course!" + +"A judge of everything?" + +"Nearly--among other things, I judge that if you continue to look at +me, and don't mind where you are walking, Miss Fanny, your handsome +feet will carry you into that stream!" + +There was much good sense in these words; and Fanny immediately took +the advice which had been proffered--that is to say, she turned her +eye away from the bantering lips of her companion, and measured the +stream which they were approaching. + +It was one of those little mountain-brooks which roll their limpid +waters over silver sands; hurl by through whispering ledges, the +resort of snipe and woodcock; or, varying this quiet and serene +existence with occasional action, dart between abrupt banks over mossy +rocks, laughing as they fly onward to the open sunlight. + +The spot which the party had reached, united these characteristics +mentioned. + +A path led to a mossy log, stretched from bank to bank, some feet +above the water--a log which had answered the purpose of a bridge for +a long time, it seemed; for both ends were buried in the sward and the +flowers which decorated it. + +Below this, the limpid stream wound over bright sands and pebbles, +which glittered in the ripples like diamonds. + +"Now!" cried Ralph, "here is a pretty pass! How are these delightful +young ladies to get over, Verty?" + +"I don't know--I suppose they will walk," observed Verty, simply. + +"Walk!" + +"Yes." + +"What! when that very dog there had to balance himself in traversing +the log?" + +"Who, Longears?" + +"Yes, Longears." + +"He's not used to logs," said Verty, smiling, and shaking his head; +"he generally jumps the streams, like Cloud." + +"Oh! you need'nt be afraid," here interrupted Redbud, smiling, and +passing before Fanny quickly; "we can get over easily enough." + +The explanation of which movement was, that Miss Redbud saw the +lurking mischief in Mr. Ralph's eyes, and wished at least to protect +herself. + +"Easy enough!" cried Ralph, moving forward quickly. + +"Yes; look!" + +And with the assistance of Verty, who held one of her hands, Redbud +essayed to pass the bridge. + +The moss rendered it slippery, and near the middle she almost fell +into the stream; with Verty's aid, however, the passage was safely +effected. + +"There!" said Redbud, smiling, "you see I was right, Mr. Ashley--was I +not?" + +"You always are!" + +"And me, sir?" said Fanny, approaching the bridge with perfect +carelessness. + +"You are nearly always wrong, my life's darling," observed Mr. Ralph. + +"You are too bad, Ralph! I'll get angry!" + +"At what?" + +"At your impertinence!" + +"I was not impertinent." + +"You were." + +"I was right." + +"You were not." + +"And the proof is, that you are going to do something wrong now," said +Ralph, laughing. + +"What, sir?" + +"I mean, you _think_ you are going to?" + +"What! for goodness gracious sake!" + +"Cross that log!" + +"I certainly am going to," said Fanny, putting her foot upon it. + +"You certainly are _not_." + +"Who will prevent me?" + +"I will, my heart's dear," said Ralph, snatching Miss Fanny up in his +arms, and rapidly passing across with his burden; "nothing easier! By +Jove, there goes your slipper!" + +In fact, just at the middle of the log, the ribbon, binding the +slipper to Miss Fanny's ankle, had broken--probably on account of her +struggles--and the luckless slipper had fallen into the stream. It +was now scudding along like a Lilliputian boat, the huge rosettes of +crimson ribbon standing out like sails. + +Ralph burst into a roar of laughter, from which he was instantly +diverted by a rousing slap upon the cheek, administered by the hand of +Fanny, who cried out at his audacity. + +"Cousins, you know!--we are cousins, darling; but what a tremendous +strength of arm you have!" + +"Try it again, sir!" said Miss Fanny, pouting, and pulling down her +sleeve, which had mounted to her shoulder in the passage. + +"Never!" cried Ralph; "I am fully conscious of my improper conduct. I +blush to think of it--that is to say, my left cheek does!" + +"Served you right!" said Fanny. + +"Uncharitable!" + +"Impudent!" + +"Unfortunate!" + +With which retort, Mr. Ralph Ashley pointed to the slipper-less foot, +which was visible beneath Miss Fanny's skirt, and laughed. + +Ralph would then have made immediate pursuit of the slipper, but Verty +detained him. + +The young man called Longears, pointed out the rosetted boat to that +intelligent serviteur, and then turned to the company. + +In two minutes Longears returned, panting, with the slipper in his +dripping mouth, from which it was transferred to the foot of its +mistress, with merry laughter for accompaniment. + +This little incident was the subject of much amusing comment to the +party--in which Miss Fanny took her share. She had soon recovered her +good-humor, and now laughed as loudly as the loudest. At one moment +she certainly did blush, however--that is to say, when, in ascending +the hill--Verty and Redbud being before--Mr. Ralph referred to the +delight he had experienced when he "saluted" her in crossing--which he +could not help doing, he said, as she was his favorite cousin, and her +cheek lay so near his own. + +Fanny had blushed at this, and declared it false;--with what truth, we +have never been able to discover. The question is scarcely important. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +UP THE HILL-SIDE AND UNDER THE CHESTNUTS. + + +Thus leaving the sedgy stream behind, with all its brilliant ripples, +silver sands, and swaying waterflags, which made their merry music +for it, as it went along toward the far Potomac,--our joyful party +ascended the fine hill which rose beyond, mounting with every step, +above the little town of Winchester, which before long looked more +like a lark's nest hidden in a field of wheat, than what it was--an +honest border town, with many memories. + +Verty and Redbud, as we have said, went first. + +We have few artists in Virginia--only one great humorist with the +pencil. This true history has not yet been submitted to him. Yet we +doubt whether ever the fine pencil of Monsignor Andante Strozzi could +transfer to canvas, or the engraver's block, the figures of the maiden +and the young man. + +Beauty, grace, and picturesqueness might be in the design, but the +indefinable and subtle poetry--the atmosphere of youth, and joy, and +innocence, which seemed to wrap them round, and go with them wherever +they moved--could not be reproduced. + +Yet in the mere material outline there was much to attract. + +Redbud, with her simple little costume, full of grace and +elegance--her slender figure, golden hair, and perfect grace of +movement, was a pure embodiment of beauty--that all-powerful beauty, +which exists alone in woman when she passes from the fairy land of +childhood, or toward the real world, pausing with reluctant feet upon +the line which separates them. + +Her golden hair was secured by a bow of scarlet ribbon, her dress was +azure, the little chip hat, with its floating streamer, just fell over +her fine brow, and gave a shadowy softness to her tender smile: she +looked like some young shepherdness of Arcady, from out the old +romances, fresh, and beautiful, and happy. Poor, cold words! If even +our friend the Signor, before mentioned, could not do her justice, how +can we, with nothing but our pen! + +This little pastoral queen leant on the arm of the young +Leatherstocking whom we have described so often. Verty's costume, by +dint of these outlined descriptions, must be familiar to the reader. +He had secured his rifle, which he carried beneath his arm, and his +eye dwelt on the autumn forest, with the old dreamy look which we +have spoken of. As he thus went on, clad in his wild forest costume, +placing his moccasined feet with caution upon the sod, and bending his +head forward, as is the wont of hunters, Verty resembled nothing so +much as some wild tenant of the American backwoods, taken back to +Arcady, and in love with some fair Daphne, who had wiled him from the +deer. + +All the old doubt and embarrassment had now disappeared from Redbud's +face; and Verty, too, was happy. + +They went on talking very quietly and pleasantly--the fresh little +face of Redbud lit up by her tender smile. + +"What are you gazing at?" said the young girl, smiling, as Verty's eye +fixed itself upon the blue sky intently; "I don't see anything--do +you?" + +"Yes," said Verty, smiling too. + +"What?" + +"A pigeon." + +"Where?" + +"Up yonder!--and I declare! It is yours, Redbud." + +"Mine?" + +"Yes--see! he is sweeping nearer--pretty pigeon!" + +"Oh--now I see him--but it is a mere speck; what clear sight you +have!" + +Verty smiled. + +"The fact is, I was brought up in the woods," he said. + +"I know; but can you recognize--?" + +"Your pigeon, Reddie? oh, yes! It is the one I shot that day, and +followed." + +"Yes--" + +"And found you by--I'm very much obliged to him," said Verty, smiling; +"there he goes, sweeping back to the Bower of Nature." + +"How prettily he flies," Redbud said, looking at the bird,--"and now +he is gone." + +"I see him yet--another has joined him--there they go--dying, dying, +dying in the distance--there! they are gone!" + +And Verty turned to his companion. + +"I always liked pigeons and doves," he said, "but doves the best; I +never shoot them now." + +"I love them, too." + +"They are so pretty!" + +"Oh, yes!" said Redbud; "and they coo so sweetly. Did you never hear +them in the woods, Verty--moaning in their nests?" + +"Often--very often, Reddie." + +"Then the dove was the bird sent out of the ark, you know." + +"Yes," said Verty, "and came back with the olive branch. I love to +read that." + +"What a long, weary flight the poor bird must have had!" + +"And how tired it must have been." + +"But God sustained it." + +"I know," said Verty; "I wish I had been there when it flew back. +How the children--if there were any children--must have smoothed its +wings, and petted it, and clapped their hands at the sight of the +olive branch!" + +The simple Verty laughed, as he thought of the glee of the little +ark-children--"if there were any." + +"There are no olives here," he said, when they had gone a little +further; "but just look at that hickory! It's growing as yellow as a +buttercup." + +"Yes, and see the maples!" + +"Poor fellows!" said Verty. + +"Why pity them? + +"I always did; see how they are burning away. And the chestnuts--oh! +I think we will get some chestnuts: here is a tree--and we are at the +top of the hill." + +Verty thereupon let go Redbud's arm, and busied himself in gathering a +pile of the chestnuts which had fallen. This ceremony was attentively +watched by Longears, who, lying with his front paws stretched out +straight, his head bent knowingly on one side, and an expression of +thoughtful dignity upon his countenance, seemed to be revelling in the +calm delights of a good conscience and a mild digestion. + +Fanny and her cavalier came up just as Verty had collected a pile of +the chestnuts, and prepared some stones for the purpose of mashing +them out. + +The party thereupon, with much laughter, betook themselves to the +task, talking gaily, and admiring the landscape as they munched--for +even young ladies munch--the chestnuts. + +One accident only happened, and that was not of an important nature. +Longears, full of curiosity, like most intellectual characters, had +approached very near Verty as he was mashing the chestnuts upon +the stone selected for the purpose, and even in the excess of his +interest, had protruded his nose in the vicinity of the young man's +left hand, which held the nuts, while he prepared to strike it with +the mass of limestone which he held in his right. + +It chanced that Verty was talking to Fanny when Longears made this +demonstration of curiosity, and did not observe him. + +Longears sniffed. + +Verty raised his stone. + +Longears smelt at the chestnut in his master's grasp, his cold muzzle +nearly touching it. + +The stone crashed down. + +Longears made a terrific spring backwards, and retiring to some +distance rubbed his nose vigorously with his paws, looking all the +while with dignified reproach at his master. + +The nose had not suffered, however, and Longears was soon appeased +and in a good humor again. The incident caused a great accession of +laughter, and after this the chestnuts having been eaten, the party +rose to walk on. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. + + +"How, sir." + +"Well, madam." + +"Keep your promise." + +"Please to indicate it." + +"I refer, sir, to your college album." + +"Oh, certainly! here it is, my darling--all ready." + +And Mr. Ralph Ashley, between whom and Miss Fanny this dialogue had +taken place, seated himself beneath a magnificent tulip-tree; and with +a movement of the head suggested a similar proceeding to the rest. + +All being seated, the young man drew from his breast-pocket a small +volume, bound in leather, and with a nod to Fanny, said: + +"I have changed my mind--I can't read but two or three." + +"Broken your promise, you mean." + +"No, my own;--oh, no." + +"Ralph, you are really too impudent!" + +"How, pray?" + +"And presumptuous!" + +"Why?" + +"Because, sir--" + +"I call you 'my own' in advance? Eh?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +Fanny had uttered the words without reflection--intending them as a +reply to Mr. Ralph's sentence, the words "in advance," being omitted +therefrom. Everybody saw her mistake at once, and a shout of laughter +greeted the reply. + +Ralph assumed a close and cautious expression, and said: + +"Well--I will be more careful in future. The fact is, that people +who are _to be_ married, should be as chary of their endearments, in +public, as those who _are_ married." + +General laughter and assent--except from Fanny, who was blushing. + +"Nothing is more disagreeable," continued Ralph, philosophically, +"than these public evidences of affection; it is positively shocking +to see and hear two married people exchanging their 'dears' and +'dearests,' 'loves' and 'darlings'--especially to bachelors; it is +really insulting! Therefore, it is equally in bad taste with those +who _are to be_ married;--logically, consequently, and in the third +place--and lastly--it is not proper, between myself and you, my +Fanny--hum--Miss Fanny!" + +This syllogistic discourse was received by Fanny with a mixture of +blushes and satirical curls of the lip. "Hum!" more than once issued +from her lips; and this expression always signified with the young +lady in question--"indeed!"--"really!"--"you think that's mighty +fine!"--or some other phrase indicative of scorn and defiance. + +On the present occasion, after uttering a number of these "hums!" +Fanny embodied her feelings in words, and replied: + +"I think, Ralph, you are the most impudent gentleman I have ever +known, and you wrong me. I wonder how you got such bad manners; at +Williamsburg, I reckon. Hum! If you wait until _I_ marry you--!" + +"I shall never repent the delay?" asked Ralph--"is that what you mean? +Well, I don't believe I shall. But a truce to jesting, my charming +cousin. You spoke of Williamsburg, and my deterioration of manners, +did you not?" + +"Yes!" + +"I can prove that I have not deteriorated." + +"Try, then." + +"No, I would have to read all this book, which is full of compliments, +Fanny; that would take all day. Besides, I am too modest." + +"Oh!" laughed Fanny, who had recovered her good humor. + +"Let us hear, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, smiling. + +"Yes--let us see how the odious, college students write and talk," +added Fanny, laughing. + +"Well, I'll select one from each branch," said Ralph: "the friendly, +pathetic, poetical, and so forth. Lithe and listen, ladies, all!" + +And while the company listened, even down to Longears, who lay at some +distance, regarding Ralph with respectful and appreciative attention, +as of a critic to whom a MS. is read, and who determines to be as +favorable as he can, consistent with his reputation--while they +listened, Ralph opened his book and read some verses. + +We regret that only a portion of the album of Mr. Ralph Ashley has +come down to modern times--the rats having devoured a greater part of +it, no doubt attracted by the flavor of the composition, or possibly +the paste made use of in the binding. We cannot, therefore, present +the reader with many of the beautiful tributes to the character of +Ralph, recorded in the album by his admiring friends. + +One of these tributes, especially, was--we are informed by vague +tradition--perfectly resplendent for its imagery and diction; +contesting seriously, we are assured, the palm, with Homer, Virgil and +our Milton; though unlike bright Patroclus and the peerless Lycidas, +the subject of the eulogy had not suffered change when it was penned. +The eulogy in question compared Ralph to Demosthenes, and said that +he must go on in his high course, and gripe the palm from Graecia's +greatest son; and that from the obscure shades of private life, his +devoted Tumles would watch the culmination of his genius, and rejoice +to reflect that they had formerly partaken of lambs-wool together in +the classic shades of William and Mary; with much more to the same +effect. + +This is lost; but a few of the tributes, read aloud by Mr. Ralph, are +here inserted. + +The first was poetic and pathetic: + +"MY DEAR ASHLEY: + +"Reclining in my apartment this evening, and reflecting upon the +pleasing scenes through which we have passed together--alas! never to +be renewed, since you are not going to return--those beautiful words +of the Swan of Avon occurred to me: + + 'To be or not to be--that is the question; + Whether 'tis better in this world to bear + The slings and arrows of--' + +"I don't remember the rest; but the whole of this handsome soliloquy +expresses my sentiments, and the sincerity with which, + +"My dear Ashley, + +"I am yours, + +"----." + +"No names!" cried Ralph; "now for another: Good old Bantam!" + +"Oh, Mr. Bantam writes this, does he?" cried Fanny. + +"Yes, Miss; for which reason I pass it--no remonstrances!--I am +inflexible; here is another: + +"DEAR RALPH: + +"I need not say how sorry I am to part with you. We have seen a great +deal of each other, and I trust that our friendship will continue +through after life. The next session will be dull without you--I do +not mean to flatter--as you go away. You carry with you the sincere +friendship and kindest regards of, + +"Dear Ralph, your attached friend, + +"---- ----." + +"I like that very much, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, smiling. + +"You'd like the writer much more, Miss Redbud," said the young man; +"really one of the finest fellows that I ever knew. I want him to pay +me a visit--I have no other friend like Alfred." + +"Oh, Alfred's his name, is it!" cried Fanny; "what's the rest? I'll +set my cap at him." + +"Alfred Nothing, is his name," said Ralph, facetiously; "and I approve +of your course. You would be Mrs. Nobody, you know; but listen--here +is the enthusiastic: + +"MY DEAR ASHLEY: + +"You are destined for great things--it is yours to scale the heights +of song, and snatch the crown from Ossa's lofty brow. Fulfil your +destiny, and make your country happy!" + +"---- ----." + +"Oh, yes!" said Fanny; "why don't you!" + +"I will!" + +"Very likely!" + +"I'm glad you agree with me; but here is the _considerate_." + +And turning the leaf, he read-- + +"I SAY, OLD FELLOW: + +"May your course in life be serene and happy; and may your friends +be as numerous and devoted as the flies and mosquitos in the Eastern +Range. + +"Your friend, till death, + +"---- ----." + +"The fact is," said Ralph, in explanation, "that this is probably the +finest wish in the book." + +"Were there many flies?" said Fanny, + +"Myriads!" + +"And mosquitos?" + +"Like sands on the seashore, and of a size which it is dreadful to +reflect upon even now." + +"Very large?" + +"You may judge, my dear Fanny, when I tell you, that one of them +flew against a scallop of oysters which the boots was bringing to my +apartment, and with a single flap of his wings dashed it from the hand +of the boots--it was dreadful; but let us get on: this is the last I +will read." + +And checking Miss Fanny's intended outburst at the oyster story, Mr. +Ralph read on-- + +"You ask me, my dear Ashley, to give you some advice, and write down +my good wishes, if I have any in your direction. Of course I have, my +dear fellow, and here goes. My advice first, then, is, never to drink +more than three bottles of wine at one sitting--this is enough; and +six bottles is, therefore, according to the most reliable rules of +logic--which I hate--too much. You might do it if you had my head; +but you havn't, and there's an end of it. Next, if you want to bet at +races, ascertain which horse is the general 'favorite,' and as our +friend, the ostler, at the Raleigh says--go agin him. Human nature +invariably goes wrong; and this a wise man will never forget. Next, if +you have the playing mania, never play with anybody but gentlemen. You +will thus have the consolation of reflecting that you have been ruined +in good company, and, in addition, had your pleasure;--blacklegs ruin +a man with a vulgar rapidity which is positively shocking. Next, my +dear boy--though this I need'nt tell you--never look at Greek after +leaving college, or Moral Philosophy, or Mathematics proper. It +interferes with a man's education, which commences when he has +recovered from the disadvantages of college. Lastly, my dear fellow, +never fall in love with any woman--if you do, you will inevitably +repent it. This world would get on quietly without them--as long as +it lasted--and I need'nt tell you that the Trojan War, and other +interesting events, never would have happened, but for bright eyes, +and sighs, and that sort of thing. If you are obliged to marry, +because you have an establishment, write the names of your lady +acquaintances on scraps of paper, put them in your hat, and draw one +forth at random. This admirable plan saves a great deal of trouble, +and you will inevitably get a wife who, in all things, will make you +miserable. + +"Follow this advice, my dear fellow, and you will arrive at the summit +of happiness. I trust I shall see you at the Oaks at the occasion of +my marriage--you know, to my lovely cousin. She's a charming girl, and +we would be delighted to see you. + +"Ever, my dear boy, + +"Your friend + +"and pitcher, + +"---- ---- ----" + +"Did anybody--" + +"Ever?" asked Ralph, laughing. + +"Such inconsistency!" said Fanny. + +"Not a bit of it!" + +"Not inconsistent!" + +"Why, no." + +"Explain why not, if you please, sir! I wonder if--" + +"That cloud does not threaten a storm, and whether I am not hungry?" +said Ralph, finishing Miss Fanny's sentence, putting the album in his +pocket, and attacking the baskets. + +"Come, my dear cousin, let us, after partaking of mental food, assault +the material! By Jove! what a horn of plenty!" + +And Ralph, in the midst of cries exclamatory, and no little laughter, +emptied the contents of the basket on the velvet sward, variegated by +the sunlight through the boughs, and fit for kings. + +The lunch commenced. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +USE OF COATS IN A STORM. + + +It was a very picturesque group seated that day beneath the golden +trees; and the difference in the appearance of each member of the +party made the effect more complete. + +Redbud, with her mild, tender eyes, and gentle smile and sylvan +costume, was the representative of the fine shepherdesses of former +time, and wanted but a crook to worthily fill Marlow's ideal; for she +had not quite + + "A belt of straw and ivy buds, + With coral clasps and amber studs,--" + +her slender waist was encircled by a crimson ribbon, quite as prettily +embroidered as the zone of the old poet's fancy, and against her snowy +neck the coral necklace which she wore was clearly outlined, rising +and falling tranquilly, like May-buds woven by child-hands into a +bright wreath, and launched on the surface of some limpid stream. + +And Fanny--gay, mischievous Fanny, with her mad-cap countenance, and +midnight eyes, and rippling, raven curls--Fanny looked like a young +duchess taking her pleasure, for the sake of contrast, in the +woods--far from ancestral halls, and laughing at the follies of the +court. Her hair trained back--as Redbud's was--in the fashion called +_La Pompadour_; her red-heeled rosetted shoes--her silken gown--all +this was plainly the costume of a courtly maiden. Redbud was the +country; Fanny, town. + +Between Verty and Ralph, we need not say, the difference was as +marked. + +The one wild, primitive, picturesque, with the beauty of the woods. + +The other richly dressed, with powdered hair and silk stockings. + +This was the group which sat and laughed beneath the fine old tulip +trees, and gazed with delight upon the splendid landscape, and were +happy. Youth was theirs, and that sunshine of the breast which puts +a spirit of joy in everything. They thought of the scene long years +afterwards, and saw it bathed in the golden hues of memory; and +sighed to think that those bright days and the child-faces had +departed--faces lit up radiantly with so much tenderness and joy. + +Do not all of us? Does the old laughter never ring again through +all the brilliant past, so full of bright, and beautiful, and happy +figures--figures which illustrated and advanced that past with such a +glory as now lives not upon earth? Balder the beautiful is gone, but +still Hermoder sees him through the gloom--only the form is dead, the +love, and joy, and light of brilliant eyes remains, shrined in their +memory. Thus, we would fain believe that no man loses what once made +him happy--that for every one a tender figure rises up at times from +that horizon, lit with blue and gold, called youth: some loving +figure, with soft, tender smiles, and starlike eyes, and arms which +beckon slowly to the weary traveller. The memory of the old youthful +scenes and figures may be deadened by the inexorable world, but still +the germ remains; and this old lost tradition of pure love, and joy, +and youth, comes back again to bless us. + +The young girls and their companions passed the hours very merrily +upon the summit of the tall hill, from which the old border town was +visible far below, its chimneys sending upward slender lines of smoke, +which rose like blue and golden staves of olden banners, then were +flattened, and so melted into air. + +Winchester itself had slowly sunk into gloom, for the evening was +coming on, and a storm also. The red light streamed from a mass of +clouds in the west, which resembled some old feudal castle in flames; +and the fiery furzes of the sunset only made the blackness of the mass +more palpable. + +Then this light gradually disappeared: a murky gloom settled down upon +the conflagration, as of dying fires at midnight, and a cool wind from +the mountains rose and died away, and rose again, and swept along in +gusts, and shook the trees, making them grate and moan. + +Verty rose to his feet. + +"In five minutes we shall have a storm," he said. "Come, Redbud--and +Miss Fanny." + +Even as he spoke, the far distance pushed a blinding mass toward them, +and a dozen heavy drops began to fall. + +"We cannot get back!" cried Ralph. + +"But we can reach the house at the foot of the hill!" said Fanny. + +"No time to lose!" + +And so saying, Verty took Redbud's hand, and leaving Fanny to Ralph, +hastened down the hill. + +Before they had gone twenty steps, the thunder gust burst on them +furiously. + +The rain was blinding--terrible. It scudded along the hill-side, +driven by the wind, with a fury which broke the boughs, snapped the +strong rushes, and flooded everything. + +Redbud, who was as brave a girl as ever lived, drew her chip hat +closer on her brow, and laughed. Fanny laughed for company, but it was +rather affected, and the gentlemen did not consider themselves called +upon to do likewise. + +"Oh, me!" cried Verty, "you'll be drenched, Redbud! I must do +something for your shoulders. They are almost bare!" + +And before Redbud could prevent him, the young man drew off his +fur fringed coat and wrapped it round the girl's shoulders, with a +tenderness which brought the color to her cheek. + +Redbud in vain remonstrated--Verty was immovable; and to divert her, +called her attention to the goings on of Ralph. + +This young gentleman had no sooner seen Verty strip off his coat for +Redbud, than with devoted gallantry he jerked off his own, and threw +it over Miss Fanny; not over her shoulders only, but her head, +completely blinding her: the two arms hanging down, indeed, like +enormous ears from the young girl's cheeks. + +Having achieved this feat, Mr. Ralph hurried on--followed Verty and +Redbud over the log, treating Miss Fanny much after the fashion of the +morning; and so in ten minutes they reached the house at the foot of +the hill, and were sheltered. + +Fanny overflowed with panting laughter as she turned and threw the +coat back to Ralph. + +"There, sir!" she cried, "there is your coat! How very gallant in you! +I shall never--no, sir, never forget your devotedness!" + +And the young girl wrung the water from her curls, and laughed. + +"Nothing more natural, my dear," said Ralph. + +"Than what?" + +"My devotedness." + +"How?" + +"Can you ask?" + +"Yes, sir, I can." + +"Would you have me a heathen?" + +"A heathen!" + +"Yes, Miss Fanny; the least which would be expected of a gentleman +would be more than I have done, under the circumstances, and with the +peculiar relationship between us. + +"Oh, yes, cousinship!" + +"No, madam, intended wedlock." + +"Sir!" + +"Come, don't blush so, my heart's delight," said Ralph, "and if the +subject is disagreeable, that is, a reference to it in this public +manner, I will say no more." + +"Hum!"-- + +"There, now--" + +"I think that your impudence--" + +"Is very reasonable," said Ralph, filling up the sentence; "but +suppose you dry your feet, and yourself generally, as Miss Redbud is +doing. That is more profitable than a discussion with me." + +This advice seemed excellent, and Fanny determined to follow it, +though she did not yield in the tongue contest without a number of +"hums!" which finally, however, died away like the mutterings of the +storm without. + +The good-humored old woman to whom the humble mansion belonged, had +kindled a bundle of twigs in the large fire-place; and before the +cheerful blaze the young girls and their cavaliers were soon seated, +their wet garments smoking, and the owners of the garments laughing. + +The good-humored old dame would have furnished them with a change, but +this was declared unnecessary, as the storm seemed already exhausted, +and they would, ere long, be able to continue their way. + +Indeed, the storm had been one of those quick and violent outbursts of +the sky, which seem to empty the clouds instantly almost, as though +the pent up waters were shut in by a floodgate, shattered by the +thunder and the lightning. Soon, only a few heavy drops continued +to fall, and the setting sun, bursting in splendor from the western +clouds, poised its red ball of fire upon the horizon, and poured a +flood of crimson on the dancing streamlets, the glittering grass, and +drenched foliage of the hill-side. + +Redbud rose, smiling. + +"I think we can go now," she said, "I am afraid to stay any longer--my +clothes are very wet, and I have not health enough to risk losing +any." + +With which the girl, with another smile, tied the ribbon of her chip +hat under her chin, and looked at Verty. + +That gentleman rose. + +"I wish my coat had been thicker," he said, "but I can't help it. Yes, +yes, Redbud, indeed we must get back. It would'nt do for you to get +sick." + +"And me, sir!" said Fanny. + +"You?" said Verty, smiling. + +"Yes, sir; I suppose it would do for me?" + +"I don't know." + +"Hum!" + +"I can tell you, dear," said Ralph, "and I assure you the thing would +not answer under any circumstances. Come, let us follow Miss Redbud." + +They all thanked the smiling old dame, and issuing from the cottage, +took their way through the sparkling fields and along the wet paths +toward home again. They reached the Bower of Nature just at twilight, +and entering through the garden were about to pass in, when they were +arrested by a spectacle on the rear portico, which brought a smile to +every lip. + +Mr. Jinks was on his knees before Miss Sallianna there. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +HOW MR. JINKS REQUESTED RALPH TO HOLD HIM. + + +Our last view of Mr. Jinks was at Bousch's tavern, when, mounting in a +manner peculiar to himself behind Ralph, the warlike gentleman set out +to take revenge. + +He had ridden thus almost to the Bower of Nature; but on reaching the +belt of willows at the foot of the hill, requested to be placed upon +the earth, in order to make his toilet, to prepare himself for the +coming interview, and for other reasons. + +Ralph had laughed, and complied. + +Mr. Jinks had seated himself upon a bank by the little stream--the +same which we have seen the picnic party cross higher up--upon a log, +and then drawing from his pocket a small mirror, he had proceeded to +make his toilet. + +This ceremony consisted in a scrupulous arrangement of his artificial +locks--a cultivation of the warlike and chivalrous expression of +countenance--and a general review of the state of his wardrobe. + +He soon finished these ceremonies, and then continued his way toward +the Bower of Nature. + +He arrived just as Ralph had proposed the excursion to the young +girls--consequently, some moments after the young fellow's interview +with Miss Sallianna--and entered with the air of a conqueror and a +master. + +History and tradition--from which, with the assistance of imagination, +(nothing unusual,) our veritable narrative is drawn--history affords +us no information in regard to what occurred at this interview between +Mr. Jinks and Miss Sallianna. + +That the interview would have been terrific, full of reproaches, +drowned in tears, objurgations, and jealous ravings, is certainly no +more than the words of Mr. Jinks would have led an impartial listener +to believe. But Mr. Jinks was deep--knew women, as he often said, as +well as need be--and therefore it is not at all improbable that the +jealous ravings and other ceremonies were, upon reflection, omitted +by Mr. Jinks, as in themselves unnecessary and a waste of time. The +reader may estimate the probabilities, pro and con, for himself. + +Whatever doubt exists, however, upon the subject of this +interview--its character and complexion--no doubt at all can possibly +attach to the picturesque denouement which we have referred to in the +last lines of our last chapter. + +Mr. Jinks was on his knees before the beautiful Sallianna. + +The girls and their companions saw it--distinctly, undoubtedly, +without possibility of mistake; finally, hearing the sound of +footsteps on the graveled walks, Mr. Jinks turned his head, and saw +that they saw him! + +It was a grand spectacle which at that moment they beheld: Mr. Jinks +erect before his rival and his foes--Mr. Jinks with his hand upon his +sword--Mr. Jinks with stern resolve and lofty dignity in his form and +mien. + +"Sir," said Mr. Jinks to Ralph, "I am glad to see you--!" + +"And I am delighted, my dear Jinks!" returned Ralph. + +"A fine day, sir!" + +"A glorious day!" + +"A heavy storm." + +"Tremendous!" + +"Wet?" + +"Very!" + +And Ralph wrung the water out of his falling cuff. + +"I say, though," said he, "things seem to have been going on very +tranquilly here." + +"Sir?" + +"Come, old fellow!" don't be ashamed of--" + +"What, sir! _I_ ashamed?" + +"Of kneeling down--you know." + +And Ralph, smiling confidentially, made significant signs over his +shoulder toward Miss Sallianna, who had withdrawn with blushing +diffidence to the other end of the portico, and was gently waving her +fan as she gazed upon the sunset. + +"The fact is, I was arranging her shoe-bow," said Mr. Jinks. + +"Oh!" said Ralph, "gammon," + +"Sir?" + +"You were courting her." + +"Courting!" + +"Ah--you deny it! Well, let us see!" + +And to Mr. Jinks' profound consternation he raised his voice, and +said, laughing: + +"Tell me, Miss Sallianna, if my friend Jinks has not been courting +you?" + +"Oh, sir!" cried Miss Sallianna, in a flutter. + +"Did you say, no?" continued Ralph, pretending to so understand the +lady; "very well, then, I may advise you, my dear Jinks, not to do +so." + +"Do what, sir?" + +"Court Miss Sallianna." + +"Why not, sir?" cried Mr. Jinks, bristling up. + +"Because you would have no chance." + +"No chance, sir!" + +Ralph's propensity for mischief got the better of him; and leaning +over, he whispered in the warlike gentleman's ear, as he pointed to +Miss Sallianna. + +"I say, Jinks, don't you understand?--desperately in +love--hum--with--hum--Verty here; no doubt of it!" + +And Ralph drew back, looking mysterious. + +Mr. Jinks cast upon the quiet Verty a glance which would have frozen +giants into stone. + +"No, sir! all explained!" he said. + +"It can't be, my dear fellow," said Ralph, in a low tone. "Verty has +the proofs." + +"Did you speak to me?" said Verty, smiling: he had been talking with +Redbud during this conference. + +"Yes, I did," said Ralph. Verty smiled, and said: + +"I did not hear what you asked." + +"No wonder," said Ralph. And turning to Mr. Jinks: + +"Observe," he said, in a low tone, "how Mr. Verty is trying to make +Miss Sallianna jealous." + +"Perdition!" said Mr. Jinks. + +"Oh, certainly!" replied Ralph, with solemn sympathy; "but here is Mr. +Verty waiting patiently to hear what I have to say." + +"Yes," said Verty, still smiling. + +"It is Mr. Jinks who desires to speak," said Ralph, retiring with a +chuckle, and leaving the adversaries face to face. + +"Hum--at--yes, sir--I desired to speak, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, with +threatening calmness. + +"Did you?" said Verty, smiling. + +"Yes, sir!" + +"I can hear now." + +"It is well that you can, sir! Mark me, sir! Some people cannot hear!" + +"Ah?" said Verty, "yes, you mean deaf people!" + +"I refer to others, sir!" + +"Yes?" + +"Nor can they see." + +"Blind people," suggested Verty. + +Mr. Jinks had an impression that Verty was trifling with him; and +considering him too good-natured to quarrel, advanced toward him with +a threatening gesture. + +"I refer to people neither blind nor deaf, who cannot see nor hear +insults, sir!" he said. + +"I never knew any," said Verty, wondering at Mr. Jinks. + +"You are one, sir!" + +"I!" + +"Yes!" + +"Do you mean I am afraid of anything?" + +"I mean, sir, that I have been wronged." + +"I don't care," said Verty, "you are not good-natured." + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"You are angry." + +"I am, sir!" + +"I advise you not to be; you don't look handsome," said Verty." + +"Sir!" cried Mr. Jinks. + +Verty's face assumed an expression of mild inquiry. + +"Will you fight?" + +"Yes," said Verty, "but you ought not to fight with that old sword. +It's too long, and besides it would frighten old Scowley--" + +"Sir!" cried Mr. Jinks, ferociously. + +"And I know Miss Sallianna would scream," said Verty. "I would'nt mind +that, though--I would'nt--for I don't like her--she told me a story!" + +Mr. Jinks flashed out his sword, and brandished it around his head. + +"Oh, me! you've been scrubbing it!" said Verty, laughing. + +To describe the terrific rage of Mr. Jinks at this disregard of +himself, his threats and weapon, would be utterly impossible. + +The great Jinks raved, swore, and executed such ferocious pirouettes +upon his grasshopper legs, in the direction of the smiling Verty, that +Ralph became alarmed at the consequence of his mischief, and hastened +to the rescue. + +"No, Jinks!" he cried, "there must be no fighting." + +"No fighting!" cried Mr. Jinks, whose ferocity, as soon as he found +himself held back, became tremendous,--"no fighting!" + +"No," said Ralph. + +"Release me, sir!" + +"Never!" cried Ralph, pinning his arms. + +"Hold me, sir! or I will at once inflict condign punishment upon this +individual!" + +"Certainly," said Ralph, beginning to laugh. "I will hold you; I +thought you said release you!" + +"I did, sir!" cried Mr. Jinks, making a very faint effort to get at +Verty. + +"Which shall I do?" + +"I will murder him!" cried Mr. Jinks, struggling with more energy, +from the fact that Ralph had grasped him more tightly. + +"Jinks! Jinks! you a murderer!" + +"I have been wronged!" said the champion, brandishing his sword. + +"Oh, no." + +"The respectable Mrs. Scowley has been insulted!" + +"You are mistaken!" + +"The divine Sallianna has been charged with falsehood!" + +"A mere jest." + +"Let me run the villain through!" + +And Mr. Jinks made a terrific lunge with his sword at Verty, and +requested Mr. Ashley to hold him tight, unless he wished to see the +Bower of Nature swimming in "gory blood!" + +The colloquy we have faithfully reported, took place in far less time +than we have taken to narrate it. + +Redbud had hastened forward with terror in her face, Fanny with +bewilderment--lastly, Miss Sallianna had rushed up to the spot with +a scream; the various personages came together just when Mr. Jinks +uttered his awful threat in relation to "gory blood." + +"Oh, Verty!" said Redbud. + +Verty smiled. + +"Alphonso!" cried Miss Sallianna, with distraction. + +Alphonso Jinks made overwhelming efforts to get at his enemy. + +"Please don't fight--for my sake, Verty!" murmured Redbud, with pale +lips. + +"Spare him, Alphonso!" cried Miss Sallianna, with a shake of agony in +her voice; "spare his youth, and do not take opprobrious revenge!" + +"He has wronged me!" cried Mr. Jinks. + +"Pardon him, Alphonso!" + +"He has insulted you!" + +"I forgive him!" cried Miss Sallianna. + +"I will have revenge!" + +And Mr. Jinks brandished his sword, and kept at a distance from Verty, +making a feint of struggling. + +"Jinks," said Ralph, "you are tiring me out. I shall let you go in +another second, if you don't put up that sword, and stop wrestling +with me!" + +This threat seemed to moderate Mr. Jinks' rage, and he replied: + +"This momentary anger is over, sir--I forgive, that young +man--Sallianna! beautiful Sallianna! for thy sake!" + +But overcome with nerves, and the revulsion produced by this change in +affairs, the beautiful Sallianna's head drooped upon one shoulder, her +eyes were closed, and her arms were extended towards Mr. Jinks. + +Before that gentleman was aware of the fact, Miss Sallianna had been +overcome by nerves, and reclined in a faint state upon his bosom. + +We need not detail the remaining particulars of the scene whose +outline we have traced. + +Verty, who had received all Mr. Jinks' threats and gesticulations with +great unconcern, applied himself to conversation with Redbud again: +and no doubt would have conversed all the evening, but for Ralph. +Ralph drew him away, pointing to the damp clothes; and with many +smiles, they took their leave. + +The last thing the young men observed, was Mr. Jinks supporting Miss +Sallianna, who had fainted a second time, and raising his despairing +eyes to heaven. + +They burst out laughing, and continued their way. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +VERTY'S HEART GOES AWAY IN A CHARIOT. + + +Verty remained hard at work all the next day; and such was the natural +quickness of the young man's mind, that he seemed to learn something +every hour, in spite of the preoccupation which, as the reader may +imagine, his affection for our little heroine occasioned. + +Roundjacket openly expressed his satisfaction at the result of the +day's labor, and hazarded a sly observation that Verty would not, on +the next day, remain so long at his desk, or accomplish so much. They +could not complain, however, Mr. Roundjacket said; Verty was a scion +of the woods, a tamed Indian, and nothing was more natural than his +propensity to follow the bent of his mind, when fancy seized him. They +must make allowances--he had no doubt, in time, everything would turn +out well--yes, Verty would be an honorable member of society, and see +the graces and attraction of the noble profession which he had elected +for his support. + +Verty received these friendly words--which were uttered between many +chuckles of a private and dignified character--with dreamy silence; +then bowing to Mr. Roundjacket, mounted Cloud, called Longears, and +rode home. + +On the following morning events happened pretty much as Mr. +Roundjacket had predicted. + +Verty wrote for some moments--then stopped; then wrote again for one +moment--then twirled, bit, and finally threw down his pen. + +Roundjacket chuckled, and observed that there was much injustice done +him in not elevating him to the dignity of prophet. And then he mildly +inquired if Verty would not like to take a ride. + +Yes, Verty would like very much to do so. And in five minutes the +young man was riding joyfully toward the Bower of Nature. + +Sad news awaited him. + +Redbud had suffered seriously from her wetting in the storm. First, +she had caught a severe cold--this had continued to increase--then +this cold had resulted in a fever, which threatened to confine her for +a long time. + +Poor Verty's head drooped, and he sighed so deeply that Fanny, who +communicated this intelligence, felt an emotion of great pity. + +Could'nt he see Redbud? + +Fanny thought not; he might, however, greet her as she passed through +the town. Word had been sent to Apple Orchard of her sickness, and the +carriage was no doubt now upon its way to take her thither. There it +was now--coming through the willows! + +The carriage rolled up to the door; Miss Lavinia descended, and +greeting Verty kindly, passed into the house. + +In a quarter of an hour the severe lady came forth again, accompanied +by the simpering Miss Sallianna, and by poor Redbud, who, wrapped in a +shawl, and with red, feverish cheeks, made Verty sigh more deeply than +before. + +A bright smile from the kind eyes, a gentle pressure of the white, +soft hand, now hot with fever, and the young girl was gone from him. +The noise of the carriage-wheels died in the distance. + +Verty remained for some moments gazing after it; then he rose, and +shaking hands with the pitying Fanny, who had lost all her merriment, +got slowly into the saddle and returned. + +He had expected a day of happiness and laughter with Redbud, basking +in the fond light of her eyes, and rambling by her side for happy +hours. + +He had seen her with fevered cheek and hand, go away from him sick and +suffering. + +His arms hanging down, his chin resting on his breast, Verty returned +slowly to the office, sighing piteously--even Longears seemed to know +the suffering of his master, and was still and quiet. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +IN WHICH THE HISTORY RETURNS TO APPLE ORCHARD. + + +Having devoted much space in the foregoing pages to those scenes, +descriptive, grotesque, and sentimental, which took place at the Bower +of Nature and Winchester, it is proper that we should now go back to +the domain of Apple Orchard, and the inhabitants of that realm, so +long lost sight of in the contemplation of the graces and attractions +of Miss Sallianna, and the various planets which hovered in the wake +of that great feminine sun of love and beauty. Apple Orchard, so long +lost sight of, will not longer suffer itself to be neglected; and, +fortunately, the return of our heroine, Redbud, affords an opportunity +of passing away, for the time, from other scenes, and going thither in +her company. + +Redbud's sickness did not last long. The girl had one of those +constitutions which, though they seem frail and delicate, yet, like +the reed, are able to resist what breaks more robust frames. +The wetting she had gotten, on the evening whose events we have +chronicled, had not seriously affected her;--a severe cold, and with +it some slight fever, had been the result. And this fever expended +itself completely, in a few days, and left the girl well again, though +quite weak and "poorly," as say the Africans. + +Redbud, like most persons, was not fond of a sick-room; and after +sending word, day after day, to our friend Verty--who never failed to +call twice at least, morning and evening--that she was better, and +better, the girl, one morning, declared to cousin Lavinia that she was +well enough to put on her dressing-wrapper, and go down stairs. + +After some demur, accompanied by many grave and solemn shakes of the +head, Miss Lavinia assented to this view of the case; and accordingly +set about arranging the girl's hair, which had become--thanks to the +fact that she could not bear it tied up--one mass of curls of the +color of gold; and this task having been performed with solemn but +affectionate care, the Squire made his appearance, according to +appointment, and taking his "baby," as he called our heroine of +sixteen and a half, in his arms, carried her down stairs, and +deposited her on a sofa, fronting the open window, looking on the +fresh fields and splendid autumn forest. + +Redbud lay here gazing with delight upon the landscape, and smiling +pleasantly. The autumn hours were going to the west--the trees had +grown more golden than on that fine evening, when, with sad mishaps to +Fanny, the gay party had wandered over the hills, though not very far +away, and seen the thunder-storm suck in the dazzling glories of the +bannered trees. Another year, with all its light, and joy, and beauty, +slowly waned away, and had itself decently entombed beneath the thick, +soft bed of yellow leaves, with nothing to disturb it but the rabbit's +tread, or forest cries, or hoof-strokes of the deer. That year had +added life and beauty to the face and form of Redbud, making her a +woman-child--before she was but a child; and the fine light now in her +tender eyes, was a light of thought and mind, the mature radiance +of opening intellect, instead of the careless, thoughtless life of +childhood. She had become suddenly much older, the Squire said, since +going to the Bower of Nature even; and as she lay now on her couch, +fronting the dying autumn, the year which whispered faintly even now +of its bright coming in the Spring, promised to make her a "young +lady!" + +And as Redbud lay thus, smiling and thinking, who should run in, with +laughing eyes and brilliant countenance, and black curls, rippling +like a midnight stream, but our young friend, Miss Fanny. + +Fanny, joyous as a lark--and merrier still at seeing Redbud "down +stairs" again--overflowing, indeed, with mirth and laughter, like a +morn of Spring, and making old Caesar, dozing on the rug, rise up and +whine. + +Fanny kissed Redbud enthusiastically, which ceremony, as everybody +knows, is, with young ladies, exactly equivalent to shaking hands +among the men; and often indicates as little real good-feeling +slanderous tongues have whispered. No one, however, could have +imagined that there was any affectation in Fanny's warm kiss. The very +ring of it was enough to prove that the young lady's whole heart was +in it, and when she sat down by Redbud and took her white hand, and +patted it against her own, the very tenderest light shone in Miss +Fanny's dancing eyes, and it was plain that she had not exaggerated +the truth, in formerly declaring that she was desperately in love +with Redbud. Ah! that fond old school attachment--whether of boy or +girl--for the close friend of sunny hours; shall we laugh at it? Are +the feelings of our after lives so much more disinterested, pure and +elevated? + +So Miss Fanny chatted on with Redbud, telling her a thousand +things, which, fortunately, have nothing to do with our present +chronicle--else would the unfortunate chronicler find his pen laughed +at for its tardy movement. Fanny's rapid flow of laughing and +picturesque words, could no more be kept up with by a sublunary +instrument of record, than the shadow of a darting bird can be caught +by the eager hand of the child grasping at it as it flits by on the +sward. + +And in the middle of this flow of words, and just when Fanny makes +a veiled allusion to an elderly "thing," and the propensity of the +person in question, to rob more juvenile young ladies of their +beaux--enter Miss Lavinia--who asks what thing Miss Fanny speaks of, +with a smile upon the austere countenance. + +Fanny declines explaining, but blushes instead, and asks Miss Lavinia +where she got that darling shawl, which is really a perfect love of +a thing; and so, with smiles from Redbud, the conversation continues +until dinner-time, when the Squire makes his appearance, and after +kissing Miss Redbud, affects to take Miss Fanny by the elbows and bump +her head against the ceiling, baby-fashion. In this attempt, we need +not say, the worthy gentleman fails, from the fact, that young ladies +of seventeen, are, for some reason, heavier than babies, and are +kissed with much more ease, and far less trouble, standing on their +feet, than chucked toward the ceiling for that purpose. + +Having dined and chatted pleasantly, and told a number of amusing +tales for Miss Redbud's edification--and against the silent protest +and remonstrance of said Miss Lavinia--the Squire declares that he +must go and see to his threshing; and, accordingly, after swearing at +Caesar, goes away; and is heard greeting somebody as he departs. + +This somebody turns out to be Verty; and the young man's face blushes +with delight at sight of Redbud, whom he runs to, and devours with his +glances. Redbud blushes slightly; but this passes soon, and the kind +eyes beam on him softly--no confusion in them now--and the small hand +is not drawn away from him, but remains in his own. + +And Fanny--amiable Fanny--knowing all about it, smiles; and Miss +Lavinia, staidest of her sex, suspecting something of it, looks +grave and dignified, but does not frown; and Verty, with perfect +forgetfulness of the presence of these persons, and much carelessness +in regard to their opinions, gazes upon Redbud with his dreamy smile, +and talks to her. + +So the day passes onward, and the shades of evening take away the +merry voices--the bright sunset shining on them as they go. They must +come again without waiting for her to return their visit--says Redbud +smiling--and the happy laughter which replies to her, makes Apple +Orchard chuckle through its farthest chambers, and the portraits on +the wall--bright now in vagrant gleams of crimson sundown--utter a +low, well-bred cachinnation, such as is befitting in the solemn, +dignified old cavaliers and ladies, looking from their laces, and +hair-powder, and stiff ruffs, upon their little grandchild. + +So the merry voices become faint, and the bright sunset slowly wanes +away, a rosy flush upon the splendid sky, dragging another day of work +or idleness, despair or joy, into oblivion! + +Redbud lies and gazes at the noble woods, bathed in that rosy flush +and smiles. Then her eyes turn toward a portrait settling into shadow, +but lit up with one bright beam--and the dear mother's eyes shine on +her with a tender light, and bless her. And she clasps her hands, and +her lips murmur something, and her eyes turn to the western sky again. +And evening slowly goes away, leaving the beautiful pure face with +evident regret, but lighting up the kind blue eyes, and golden hair, +and delicate cheek, with a last vagrant gleam. + +So the dim cheerful night came down--the day was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +HOURS IN THE OCTOBER WOODS. + + +In a week Redbud was going about again: slowly, it is true, and taking +care not to fatigue herself, but still she was no longer confined to +the house. + +She rose one morning, and came down with a face full of happy +expectation. + +That day had been appointed for a holiday in the woods, and Fanny, +Verty and Ralph were coming. Soon they came. + +Ralph was resplendent in a new suit of silk, which he had procured +after numerous directions from our friend Mr. O'Brallaghan; Verty +resembled the young forest emperor, which it was his wont to resemble, +at least in costume;--and Fanny was clad in the finest and most +coquettish little dress conceivable. After mature deliberation, we +are inclined to believe that her conquest of Ralph was on this day +completed and perfected:--the conduct of that gentleman for some days +afterwards having been very suspicious. We need only say, that he sat +at his window, gazing moonward--wrote sonnets in a very melancholy +strain, and lost much of his ardor and vivacity. These symptoms are +sufficient for a diagnosis when one is familiar with the disease, and +they were exhibited by Mr. Ralph, on the occasion mentioned. But we +anticipate. + +The gay party went out in the grove, and wandering about in the +brilliant October sunlight, gathered primroses and other autumn +flowers, which, making into bunches, they topped with fine slender, +palm-like golden rods:--and so, passing on, came to the old glen +behind, and just beneath the acclivity which made the western horizon +of Apple Orchard. + +"Look what a lovely tulip tree!" said Fanny, laughing, "and here is +the old lime-kiln--look!" + +Ralph smiled. + +"I am looking,"--he said. + +"You are not!" + +"Yes--at you." + +"I asked you to look at the old kiln--" + +"I prefer your charming face, my heart's treasure." + +Redbud laughed, and turning her white, tender face, to the dreamy, +Verty said: + +"Are they not affectionate, Verty?" + +Verty smiled. + +"I like that," he said. + +"So do I--but Mr. Ralph is so--" + +"_What_, Miss Redbud?" said Ralph, laughing, "eh?" + +"Oh, I did'nt know--" + +"I heard you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, at least I did. I don't see why I should not be affectionate to +Fanny--" + +"Humph!" from Fanny. + +"She is my dearest cousin--is Miss Fanny Temple; and we have been in +love with each other for the last twenty years, more or less!" + +Fanny burst into laughter. + +"Twenty years!" she cried. + +"Well?" said Ralph. + +"I'm only seventeen, sir." + +"Seventeen?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Seventeen--three from seventeen," said Ralph, thoughtfully +calculating on his fingers, "ah! yes! you are right--you have been in +love with me but fourteen years. Yes! yes! you have reason to say, as +you did, that it was not twenty years--quite." + +After which speech, which was delivered in an innocent tone, Mr. Ralph +scratched his chin. + +Fanny stood for a moment horrified at the meaning given to her +exclamation--then colored--then cried "Humph!"--then burst into +laughter. The party joined in it. + +"Well, well," said the bright girl, whose dancing eyes were full of +pleasure, "don't let us get to flirting to-day." + +"Flirting?" said Ralph. + +"Yes." + +"I never flirt." + +"No, never!" + +"There, you are getting ironical--you fly off from--" + +"The subject, I suppose--like that flying squirrel yonder--look!" + +Indeed, a mottled little animal, of the description mentioned, +had darted from the tulip toward a large oak, and falling as he +flew--which we believe characterizes the flight of this squirrel--had +lit upon the oak near the root, and run rapidly up the trunk. + +"Did you ever!" cried Fanny. + +"I don't recollect," said Ralph. + +"Why how can he fly?" + +"Wings," suggested Verty, + +"But they are so small, and he's so heavy." + +"He starts high up," said Verty, "and makes a strong jump when he +flies. That's the way he does." + +"How curious," said Redbud. + +"Yes," cried Fanny, "and see! there's a striped ground squirrel, and +listen to that crow,--caw! caw!" + +With which Fanny twists her lips into astonishing shapes, and imitates +the crow in a manner which the youngest of living crows would have +laughed to scorn. + +Redbud gathered some beautiful flowers, and with the assistance of +Verty made a little wreath, which she tied with a ribbon. Stealing +behind Fanny, she placed this on her head. + +"Oh, me?" cried Miss Fanny. + +"Yes, for you," said Ralph. + +"From Redbud? Oh! thank you. But I'll make you one. Come, sir,"--to +Ralph,--"help me." + +"To get flowers?" + +"Yes." + +"Willingly." + +"There is a bunch of primroses." + +"Shall I get it?" said Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I think you had better," said Ralph. + +"Well, sir!" + +"Now, Fanny--don't get angry--I will--" + +"No, you shan't!" + +"Indeed I will!" + +The result of this contention, as to who should gather the primroses, +was, that Fanny and Ralph, stooping at the same moment, struck their +faces together, and cried out--the young lady at least. + +Fanny blushed very much as she rose--Ralph was triumphant. + +"I've got them, however, sir," she said, holding the flowers. + +"And I had a disagreeable accident," said Ralph, laughing, and +pretending to rub his head. + +"Disagreeable, sir!" cried Fanny, without reflecting. + +"Yes!" said Ralph--"why not?" + +Fanny found herself involved again in an awkward explanation--the fact +being, that Ralph's lips had, by pure accident, of course, touched her +brow. + +It would, therefore, have only complicated matters for Fanny to have +explained why the accident ought not to be "disagreeable," as +Ralph declared it to be. The general reply, however, which we have +endeavored, on various occasions, to represent by the word "Humph!" +issued from the young girl's lips; and busying herself with the +wreath, she passed on, followed by the laughing company. + +From the forest, they went to the mossy glen, as we may call it, +though that was not its name; and Verty enlivened the company with a +description of a flock of young partridges which had there started up +once, and running between his feet, disappeared before his very eyes. +Redbud, too, recollected the nice cherries they had eaten from the +trees--as nice as the oxhearts near the house--in the Spring; and +Fanny did too, and told some very amusing stories of beaux being +compelled to climb and throw down boughs laden with their red bunches. + +In this pleasant way they strolled along the brook which stole by +in sun and shadow, over mossy rocks, and under bulrushes, where the +minnows haunted--which brook, tradition (and the maps) call to-day by +the name of one member of that party; and so, passing over the slip of +meadow, where Verty declared the hares were accustomed to gambol by +moonlight, once more came again toward the locust-grove of "dear old +Apple Orchard,"--(Fanny's phrase,)--and entered in again, and threw +down their treasures of bright flowers and bird's-nests--for they had +taken some old ones from the trees--and laughed, sang, and were happy. + +"Why! what a day!" cried Ralph; "if we only had a kite now!" + +"A kite!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes." + +"An elegant college gentleman--" + +"Oh--suspend the college gentleman, if I may use the paraphrase," said +Mr. Ralph; "why can't you permit a man to return again, my heart's +delight, to his far youth." + +"_Far_ youth." + +"Ages ago--but in spite of that, I tell you I want to see a fine kite +sailing up there." + +"Make it, then!" + +"By Jove! I will, if Miss Redbud will supply--" + +"The materials? Certainly, in one moment, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, +smiling softly; "how nice it will be!" + +"Twine, scissors, paper," said Ralph; "we'll have it done +immediately." + +Redbud went, and soon returned with the materials; and the whole +laughing party began to work upon the kite. + +Such was their dispatch, that, in an hour it was ready, taken to the +meadow, and there, with the united assistance of gentlemen and ladies, +launched into the sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +THE HAPPY AUTUMN FIELDS. + + +The rolling ground beyond the meadow, where the oaks rustled, was the +point of departure of the kite--the post from which it sailed forth on +its aerial voyage. + +The whole affair was a success, and never did merrier hearts watch a +kite. + +It was beautifully made--of beautiful paper, all red, and blue and +yellow--and the young girls had completely surrounded it with figures +of silver paper, and decorated it, from head to foot, with flowers. + +Thus, when it ascended slowly into the cerulean heavens, as said the +poetical Ralph, its long, flower-decorated streamers rippling in the +wind, it was greeted with loud cries of joy and admiration--thunders +of applause and enthusiastic encouragement to "go on!" from Ralph, who +had grown very young again--from Fanny, even more exaggerated cries. + +That young lady seemed to be on the point of flying after it--the +breeze seemed about to bear her away, and she clapped her hands and +followed the high sailing paper-bird with such delight, that Ralph +suggested she should be sent up as a messenger. + +"No," said Fanny, growing a little calmer, but laughing still, "I'm +afraid I should grow dizzy." + +And looking at the kite, which soared far up, and seemed to be peeping +from side to side, around the small white clouds, Fanny laughed more +than ever. + +But why should we waste our time in saying that the gay party were +pleased with everything, and laughed out loudly for that reason? + +Perhaps a merrier company never made the golden days of autumn ring +with laughter, either at Apple Orchard, where hill and meadow echoed +to the joyous carol, or in any other place. Sitting beneath the oaks, +and looking to the old house buried in its beautiful golden trees, the +girls sang with their pure, melodious voices, songs which made the +fresh, yet dreamy autumn dearer still, and wrapped the hearts of those +who listened in a smiling, calm delight. Give youth only skies and +pure fresh breezes, and the ready laughter shows how happy these +things, simple as they are, can make it. It wants no present beyond +this; for has it not what is greater still, the radiant and rosy +future, with its splendid tints of joy and rapture? + +Youth! youth! Erect in the beautiful frail skiff, he dares the tide, +gazing with glorious brow upon the palace in the cloud, which hovers +overhead, a fairy spectacle of dreamland--real still to him! Beautiful +youth! As he stands thus with his outstretched arms, the light upon +his noble face, and the young lips illumined by their tender smile, +who can help loving him, and feeling that more of the light of Heaven +lingers on his countenance, than on the man's? Youth! youth! beautiful +youth!--who, at times, does not look back to it with joyful wonder, +long for it with passionate regret--for its inexperience and +weakness!--its illusions and romance!--its fond trust, and April +smiles and tears! Who does not long to laugh again, and, leaning over +the bark's side, play with the foaming waves again, as in the old +days! Beautiful youth! sailing for Beulah, the land of flowers, and +landing there in dreams--how can we look upon your radiant brow and +eyes, without such regret as nothing taking root in this world can +console us for completely! Ah! after all, there is no philosophy like +ignorance--there is no joy like youth and innocence! + +The shouts and laughter ringing through the merry fields, on the fine +autumn morning, may have led us into this discourse upon youth: the +very air was full of laughter, and when Fanny let the kite string go +by accident, the rapture grew intense. + +Verty and Redbud sitting quietly, at the distance of some paces, under +the oaks, looked on, laughing and talking. + +"How bright Fanny is," said Redbud, laughing--"Look! I think she is +lovely; and then she is as good as she can be." + +"I like her," said Verty, tenderly, "because she likes you, Redbud. I +like Ralph, too--don't you?" + +"Oh, yes--I think he is very pleasant and agreeable; he has just come +from college, and Fanny says, has greatly improved--though," whispered +Redbud, bending toward Verty, and smiling, "she says, when he is +present, that he has _not_ improved; just the opposite." + +Verty sighed. + +The delicate little face of Redbud was turned toward him inquiringly. + +"Verty, you sighed," she said. + +"Did I?" said Verty. + +"Yes." + +Verty sighed again. + +"Tell me what troubles you," said Redbud, softly. + +"Nothing--nothing," replied Verty; "I was only thinking about college, +you know." + +"About college?" + +"Yes." + +And Verty repeated the sigh. + +"Tell me your thoughts," said Redbud, earnestly. + +"I was only thinking," returned her companion, "that there was no +chance of my ever going to college, and I should like to know how I am +to be a learned man without having an education." + +Redbud sighed too. + +"But perhaps," she said, "you might make yourself learned without +going to college." + +Verty shook his head. + +"You are not so ignorant as you think," Redbud said, softly. "I +know many persons as old as you are, who--who--are not half +as--intelligent." + +Verty repeated the shake of his head. + +"I may know as much as the next one about hunting," he said; "and _ma +mere_ says that none of her tribe had as much knowledge of the habits +of the deer. Yes! yes! that is something--to know all about life in +the autumn woods, the grand life which, some day, will be told about +in great poetry, or ought to be. But what good is there in only +knowing how to follow the deer, or watch for the turkeys, or kill +bears, as I used to before the neighborhood was filled up? I want to +be a learned man. I don't think anybody would, or ought to, marry me," +added Verty, sighing. + +Redbud laughed, and colored. + +"Perhaps you can go to college, though," she said. + +"I'm afraid not," said Verty; "but I won't complain. Why should I? +Besides, I would have to leave you all here, and I never could make up +my mind to that." + +("Let it go, Ralph!" from Fanny. + +To which the individual addressed, replies: + +"Oh, certainly, by all means, darling of my heart!") + +Redbud smiled. + +"I think we are very happy here," she said; "there cannot be anything +in the Lowlands prettier than the mountains--" + +"Oh! I know there is not!" exclaimed Verty, with the enthusiasm of the +true mountaineer. + +"Besides," said Redbud, taking advantage of this return to brighter +thoughts, "I don't think learning is so important, Verty. It often +makes us forget simple things, and think we are better than the rest +of the world--" + +"Yes," said Verty. + +"That is wrong, you know. I think that it would be dearly bought, if +we lost charity by getting it," said the girl, earnestly. + +Verty looked thoughtful, and leaning his head on his hand, said: + +"I don't know but I prefer the mountains, then. Redbud, I think if I +saw a great deal of you, you would make me good--" + +"Oh! I'm afraid--" + +"I'd read my Bible, and think about God," Verty said. + +"Don't you now, Verty?" + +"Yes; I read." + +"But don't you think?" + +Verty shook his head. + +"I can't remember it often," he replied. "I know I ought." + +Redbud looked at him with her soft, kind eyes, and said: + +"But you pray?" + +"Sometimes." + +"Not every night?" + +"No." + +Redbud looked pained; + +"Oh! you ought to," she said. + +"I know I ought, and I'm going to," said the young man; "the fact is, +Redbud, we have a great deal to be thankful for." + +"Oh, indeed we have!" said Redbud; earnestly--"all this beautiful +world: the sunshine, the singing of the birds, the health of our dear +friends and relatives; and everything--" + +"Yes, yes," said Verty, "I ought to be thankful more than anybody +else." + +"Why?" + +"You know I'm an Indian." + +Redbud looked dubious. + +"At least _ma mere_ is my mother," said Verty; "and if I am not an +Indian, I don't know what I am. You know," he added, "I can't be like +a deer in the woods, that nobody knows anything about." + +Redbud smiled; then, after a moment's thought, said: + +"I don't think you are an Indian, Verty." + +And as she spoke, the young girl absently passed the coral necklace, +we have spoken of, backward and forward between her lips. + +Verty pondered. + +"I don't know," he said, at last; "but I know it was very good in God +to give me such a kind mother as _ma mere_; and such friends as you +all. I'm afraid I am not good myself." + +Redbud passed the necklace through her fingers thoughtfully. + +"That is pretty," said Verty, looking at it. "I think I have seen it +somewhere before." + +Redbud replied with a smile: + +"Yes, I generally wear it; but I was thinking how strange your life +was, Verty." + +And she looked kindly and softly with her frank eyes at the young man, +who was playing with the beads of the necklace. + +"Yes," he replied, "and that is just why I ought to be thankful. If I +was somebody's son, you know, everybody would know me--but I aint, and +yet, everybody is kind. I often try to be thankful, and I believe I +am," he added; "but then I'm often sinful. The other day, I believe I +would have shot Mr. Jinks--that was very wrong; yes, I know that was +very wrong." + +And Verty shook his head sadly. + +"Then I am angry sometimes," he said, "though not often." + +"Not very often, I know," said Redbud, softly; "you are very sweet +tempered and amiable." + +"Do you think so, Redbud?" + +"Yes, indeed," smiled Redbud. + +"I'm glad you think so; I thought I was not enough; but I have been +talking about myself too much, which, Miss Lavinia says, is wrong. +But, indeed, Redbud, I'll try and be good in future--look! there is +Fanny quarreling with Ralph!" + +They rose, and approached the parties indicated, who were, however, +not more quarrelsome than usual: Fanny was only struggling with Ralph +for the string of the kite. The contention ended in mutual laughter; +and as a horn at that moment sounded for the servants to stop work for +dinner, the party determined to return to Apple Orchard. + +The kite was tied to a root, and they returned homeward. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE. + + +"Oh!" cried Fanny, as they were again walking upon the smooth meadow, +in the afternoon, "I think we ought to go and get some apples!" + +"And so do I," said Ralph. + +"Of course, I expected you to agree with me, sir." + +"Naturally; I always do." + +This observation was remotely satirical, and Miss Fanny resented it. + +"You are the most contentious person I ever knew," she said. + +"Am I?" asked Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is fortunate." + +"Why?" + +"Because, difference of opinion is the soul of conversation, and as +you never disagree with anybody, we could not converse. Observe how +the syllogism comes out?" + +"Fine logician!" + +"Lovely damsel!" + +"Mr. College-Graduate!" + +"Miss School-Girl!" + +"School-girl!" + +"College-graduate!" + +And after this exchange of compliments, the parties walked on, +mutually pleased with each other. + +Redbud and Verty followed them, and they soon arrived at the old +orchard. + +Behind the party followed Longears, whose presence, throughout the +day, we have very improperly neglected to mention; but as that +inquisitive animal was, during the whole morning, roaming, at his own +wild will, the neighboring fields--prying into the holes of various +wild animals, and exchanging silent commentaries with the Apple +Orchard dogs--this omission will not appear very heinous. + +Longears had now regaled himself with a comfortable dinner, the last +bone of which he had licked--and having thus, like a regular and +respectable citizen, taken care of the material, was busily engaged +again in the intellectual pursuit of his enemies, the squirrels, +butterflies and bees, at which he barked and dashed at times with +great vigor and enthusiasm. + +"Look at him," said Redbud; "why does he dislike the butterflies?" + +"Only fun," said Verty; "he often does that. Here, Longears!" + +Longears approached, and Verty pointed to the ground. Longears laid +down. + +"Stay there!" said Verty. + +And smiling, he walked on. + +Redbud laughed, and turning round made signs to the dog to follow +them. Longears, however, only moved his head uneasily, and wagged his +tail with eloquent remonstrance. + +"Let him come, Verty," said the girl. + +Verty smiled, and made a movement of the hand, which, from the +distance of a hundred yards, raised Longears three feet into the air. +Returning from this elevation to the earth again, he darted off over +the fields after the bees and swallows. + +The young men and their companions smiled, and strolled on. They +reached the old orchard, and ran about among the trees picking up +apples--now the little soft yellow crab apples--then the huge, round, +ruddy pippins--next the golden-coat bell apples, oblong and mellow, +which had dropped from pure ripeness from the autumn boughs. + +Verty had often climbed into the old trees, and filled his cap with +the speckled eggs of black-birds, or found upon the fence here, +embowered in the foliage, the slight nests of doves, each with its +two eggs, white and transparent almost; and the recollection made him +smile. + +They gathered a number of the apples, and then strolled on, and eat a +moment with the pleasant overseer's wife. + +A number of little curly-headed boys had been rolling like apples on +the grass as they approached; fat-armed and chubby-legged, and making +devoted advances to Longears, who, descending from his dignity, rolled +with them in the sunshine. These now approached, and the young girls +patted their heads, and Mr. Ralph gave them some paternal advice, and +the good housewife, spinning in her cane-bottom chair with straight +tall back, smiled pleasantly, and curtsied. + +The baby (there always was a baby at the overseer's) soon made his +appearance, as babies will do everywhere; and then the unfortunate +young curly-heads of riper age were forced to return once more to the +grass and play with Longears--they were forgotten. + +To describe the goings on of the two young ladies with that baby is +wholly out of the question. They quarreled for it, chucked it in their +arms, examined its toes with critical attention, and conversed with it +in barbarous baby language, which was enough, Ralph said, to drive a +man distracted. They asked it various questions--were delighted with +its replies--called its attention to the chickens--and evidently +labored under the impression that it understood. They addressed the +baby uniformly in the neuter gender, and requested to know whether it +was not their darling. To all which the baby replied with thoughtful +stares, only occasionally condescending to laugh. The feet having been +examined again--there is much in babies' feet--the party smiled and +went away, calling after baby to the last. + +"Now, that's all affectation," said Ralph; "you young ladies--" + +"You're a barbarian, sir!" replied Fanny, with great candor. + +"I know I am." + +"I'm glad you do." + +"But," continued Ralph, "tell me now, really, do you young girls +admire babies?" + +"Certainly _I_ do--" + +"And I," said Redbud. + +"They're the sweetest, dearest things in all the world," continued +Fanny, "and the man who don't like babies--" + +"Is a monster, eh?" + +"Far worse, sir!" + +And Fanny laughed. + +"That is pleasant to know," said Ralph; "then I'm a monster." + +Having arrived at which highly encouraging conclusion, the young man +whistled. + +"I say," he said, suddenly, "I wanted to ask--" + +"Well, sir?" said Fanny. + +"Before we leave the subject--" + +"What subject?" + +"Babies." + +"Well, ask on." + +"I wish to know whether babies talk." + +"Certainly!" + +"Really, now?" + +"Yes." + +"And you understand them?" + +"_I_ do," said Fanny. + +"What does 'um, um,' mean? I heard that baby say 'um, um,' +distinctly." + +Fanny burst out laughing. + +"Oh, I know!" she said, "when I gave him an apple." + +"Yes." + +"It meant, 'that is a very nice apple, and I would like to have +some.'" + +"Did it?" + +"Of course." + +"Suppose, then, it had been a crab-apple, and the baby had still said +'um, um,' what would it then have meant?" + +"Plainly this: 'that is not a nice apple, and I would not like to have +any.'" + +"That is perfectly satisfactory," said Ralph;"'um, um,' expresses +either the desire to possess a sweet apple, or the objection to a sour +one. I have heard of delicate shades of language before, but this is +the sublimity thereof." + +And Ralph laughed. + +"I never saw such a person," said Fanny, pouting. + +"By the bye," said Ralph. + +"Well, sir?" + +"What was there so interesting in the toes?" + +"They were lovely." + +"Anything else?" + +"Beautiful." + +"That all? Come, now, tell me the charm in those feet which you young +ladies designated, I remember, as 'teensy,' and expressed your desire +to 'tiss.' Shocking perversion of the king's English--and in honor of +nothing but two dirty little feet!" said Ralph. + +The storm which was visited upon Ralph's unhappy head for this +barbarous criticism was dreadful. Fanny declared, in express terms, +that he was a monster, an ogre, and with a stone in his breast instead +of a heart. To which Mr. Ralph replied, that the best writers of +ancient and modern times had nowhere designated as a monster the man +who was not in raptures at the sight of babies;--whereupon Miss Fanny +declared her disregard of writers in general, and her preference for +babies--at which stage of the discussion Ralph began to whistle. + +Why not catch the laughter of those youthful lips, and tell how +the young men and maidens amused themselves that fine autumn day? +Everything innocent and fresh is beautiful--and there are eyes which +shine more brightly than the sun, voices which make a softer music +than the breezes of October in the laughing trees. Redbud's face and +voice had this innocence and joy in it--there was pleasure in the very +sound of it; and such a delicate kind of light in the soft eyes, that +as they went, the young men felt more pure, and bowed to her, as +something better than themselves--of higher nature. + +The light of Fanny's eyes was more brilliant; but Redbud's were of +such softness that you forgot all else in gazing at them--lost your +heart, looking into their lucid depths of liquid light. + +One heart was irremediably lost long since, and, gone away into the +possession of the young lady. This was Verty's; and as they went +along he gazed so tenderly at the young girl, that more than once +she blushed, and suffered the long lashes to fall down upon her rosy +cheek. + +Fanny was talking with Ralph;--for these young gentlemen had made the +simple and admirable arrangement, without in the least consulting +the ladies, that Verty should always entertain and be entertained by +Redbud, Ralph quarrel with, and be quarreled with, by Fanny. + +Each, on the present occasion, was carrying out his portion of the +contract; that is to say, Verty and Redbud were quietly smiling at +each other; Ralph and Fanny were exchanging repartees. + +They came thus to the knoll which they had stopped upon in the +forenoon. + +The fine kite--tied to a root, as we have said--was hovering far up +among the clouds, swaying and fluttering its streamers in the wind: +the various colors of the paper, and the flowers almost wholly +indiscernible, so high had it ascended. + +"Look!" said Fanny, "there it is up among the swallows, which are +flying around it as if they never saw a kite before." + +"Female swallows, doubtless," observed Ralph, carelessly. + +"Female? Pray, why?" + +"Because they have so much curiosity; see, you have made me utter what +is not common with me." + +"What, sir?" + +"A bad witticism." + +Fanny laughed, and replied, gazing at the kite: + +"Your witticisms are, of course, always, fine--no doubt very classic; +now I will send up a messenger on the string. Redbud, have you a piece +of paper?" + +Redbud drew the paper from her apron pocket, and gave it to Fanny, +with a smile. + +Fanny tore the yellow scrap into a circle, and in the centre of this +circle made a hole as large as her finger. + +"Now, Mr. Ralph, please untie the string from the root." + +"With pleasure," said the young man; "for you, my heart's delight, I +would--" + +"Come, come, sir! you make an oration upon every occasion!" + +With many remonstrances at being thus unceremoniously suppressed, Mr. +Ralph knelt down, and untied the string. + +"Does it pull strongly, Mr. Ralph?" said Redbud, smiling. + +"Oh, yes! you know it was nearly as tall as myself--just try." + +"The messenger first!" cried Fanny. + +And she slipped it over the string. + +"Now, Miss Redbud, just try!" said Ralph. + +Redbud wrapped the string around her hand, and Ralph let it go. + +"How do you like it!" he said. + +"Oh!" cried Redbud, "it is so strong!--there must be a great wind in +the clouds!--Oh!" added the girl, laughing, "it is cutting my hand in +two!" + +And she caught the string with her left hand to relieve the afflicted +member. + +"Give it to me!" cried Fanny. + +"Yes, give it to her; she has the arm of an Amazon," said Ralph, +enthusiastically. + +"Humph!" + +And having entered this, her standing protest, Fanny laughed, and +unwound the string from Redbud's hand, on whose white surface two +crimson circles were visible. + +"I can hold it!" cried the young girl, "easily!" + +And to display her indifference, Fanny knelt on one knee to pick up +her gloves. + +The consequence of this movement was, that the heavy kite, struck, +doubtless, at the moment by a gust of wind, jerked the lady with the +Amazonian arm so violently, that, unable to retain her position, she +fell upon her left hand, then upon her face, and was dragged a pace or +two by the heavy weight. + +"By Jove!" cried Ralph, running to her, "did anybody--" + +"Oh, take care!" exclaimed Redbud, hastening to her friend's +assistance. + +"It is nothing!" Fanny said; "I can hold it." + +And to prove this, she let go the string, which was cutting her hand +in two. + +The poor kite! loosed from the sustaining hand, from the earth, which, +so to speak, held it up--it sees its hopes of elevation in the world +all dashed with disappointment and obscured. It is doomed! + +But no! A new friend comes to its rescue--deserted by the lords and +ladies of creation, the lesser creature takes it under his protection. + +Longears is the rescuer. Longears has watched the messenger we have +mentioned with deep interest, as it lays upon the string and flutters; +Longears imagines that it is a bee of the species called yellow-jacket +challenging him to combat. Consequently, Longears no sooner sees the +string dart from Fanny's hand, than believing the enemy about to +escape him, he springs toward it and catches it in his mouth. + +Longears catches a tartar; but too brave to yield without a struggle, +rolls upon the ground, grinding the yellow enemy, and the string +beneath his teeth. + +His evolutions on the grass wrap the string around his feet and neck; +Longears is taken prisoner, and finds himself dragged violently over +the ground. + +Brave and resolute before a common enemy, Longears fears this unknown +adversary. Overcome with superstitious awe, he howls; endeavoring to +howl again, he finds his windpipe grasped by his enemy. The howl turns +into a wheeze. His eyes start from his head; his jaws open; he rolls +on the grass; leaps in the air; puts forth the strength of a giant, +but in vain. + +It is at this juncture that Verty runs up and severs the string with +his hunting-knive; whereat Longears, finding himself released, rubs +his nose vigorously with his paws, sneezes, and lies down with an +unconscious air, as if nothing had happened. He is saved. + +The kite, however, is sacrified. Justly punished for wounding Redbud's +hand, throwing Miss Fanny on her face, and periling the life of +Longears, the unfortunate kite struggles a moment in the clouds, +staggers from side to side, like a drunken man, and then caught by +a sudden gust, sweeps like a streaming comet down into the autumn +forest, and is gone. + +Fanny is wiping her hands, which are somewhat soiled; the rest of +the company are laughing merrily at the disappearance of the kite; +Longears is gravely and seriously contemplating the yellow enemy with +whom he has struggled so violently, and whose conqueror he believes +himself to be. + +This was the incident so frequently spoken of by Mr. Ralph Ashley +afterwards, as the Bucolic of the kite. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE HARVEST MOON. + + +The day was nearly gone now, dying over fir-clad hills; but yet, +before it went, poured a last flood of rich, red light, such as only +the mountains and the valley boast, upon the beautiful sloping meadow, +stretching its green and dewy sea in front of Apple Orchard. + +As the sun went away in royal splendor, bounding over the rim of +evening, like a red-striped tiger--on the eastern horizon a light rose +gradually, as though a great conflagration raged there. Then the +trees were kindled; then the broad, yellow moon--call it the harvest +moon!--soared slowly up, dragging its captive stars, and mixing its +fresh radiance with the waning glories of the crimson west. + +And as the happy party--grouped upon the grassy knoll, like some party +of shepherds and shepherdesses, in the old days of Arcady--gazed on +the beautiful spectacle, the voices of the negroes coming from their +work were heard, driving their slow teams in, and sending on the air +the clear melodious songs, which, rude and ludicrous as they seem, +have yet so marvellous an effect, borne on the airs of night. + +Those evening songs and sounds! Not long ago, one says, I stood, just +at sunset, on the summit of a pretty knoll, and, looking eastward, saw +the harvesters cutting into the tall, brown-headed, rippling wheat. +I heard the merry whistle of the whirling scythes; I heard their +songs--they were so sweet! And why are these harvest melodies so +soft-sounding, and so grateful to the ear? Simply because they +discourse of the long buried past; and, like some magical spell, +arouse from its sleep all the beauteous and gay splendor of those +hours. As the clear, measured sound floated to my ear, I heard also, +again, the vanished music of happy childhood--that elysian time which +cannot last for any of us. I do not know what the song was--whether +some slow, sad negro melody, or loud-sounding hymn, such as the +forests ring with at camp-meetings; but I know what the murmuring and +dying sound brought to me again, living, splendid, instinct with a +thoughtful but perfect joy. Fairyland never, with its silver-twisted, +trumpet-flower-like bugles, rolled such a merry-mournful music to the +friendly stars! I love to have the old days back again--back, with +their very tints, and atmosphere, and sounds and odors--now no more +the same. Thus I love to hear the young girl's low, merry song, +floating from the window of a country-house, half-broken by the +cicala, the swallow's twitter, or the rustling leaves;--I love to hear +the joyous ripple of the harpsichord, bringing back, with some old +music, times when that merry music stamped the hours, and took +possession of them--in the heart--forever more! I love a ringing horn, +even the stage-horn--now, alas! no more a sound of real life, only +memory!--the thousand murmurs of a country evening; the far, clear cry +of wild-geese from the clouds; the tinkling bells of cattle; every +sound which brings again a glimpse of the far-glimmering plains of +youth. And that is why, standing on this round knoll, beneath the +merrily-rustling cherry-trees, and listening to the murmurous song, +I heard my boyhood speak to me, and felt again the old breath on my +brow. The sun died away across the old swaying woods; the rattling +hone upon the scythe; the measured sweep; the mellow music--all were +gone away. The day was done, and the long twilight came--twilight, +which mixes the crimson of the darkling west, the yellow moonlight in +the azure east, and the red glimmering starlight overhead, into one +magic light. And so we went home merrily, with pleasant thoughts and +talk; such pleasant thoughts I wish to all. Thus wrote one who ever +delighted in the rural evenings and their sounds;--and thus listened +the young persons, whose conversation, light and trivial though it +seem, we have not thought it a loss of time to chronicle, from morn +till eve. + +They gazed with quiet pleasure upon the lovely landscape, and listened +to the negroes as they sang their old, rude, touching madrigals, +shouting, at times, to the horses of their teams, and not seldom +sending on the air the loud rejoiceful outburst of their laughter. + +The moonlight slept upon the wains piled up with yellow sheaves--and +plainly revealed the little monkey-like black, seated on the summit of +the foremost; and this young gentleman had managed to procure a banjo, +and was playing. + +As he played he sang; and, as he sang, kept time--not with the +head alone, and foot, but with his whole body, arms, and legs and +shoulders--all agitated with the ecstacy of mirth, as--singing "coony +up the holler," and executing it with grand effect moreover--the +merry minstrel went upon his way. Various diminutive individuals of a +similar description, were observed in the road behind, executing an +impromptu "break down," to the inspiring melody; and so the great +piled-up wagon came on in the moonlight, creaking in unison with the +music, and strewing on the road its long trail of golden wheat. + +The moon soared higher, bidding defiance now to sunset, which it drove +completely from the field; and in the window of Apple Orchard a light +began to twinkle; and Redbud rose. She should not stay out, she said, +as she had been sick; and so they took their way, as says our friend, +"in pleasant talk," across the emerald meadow to the cheerful home. + +The low of cattle went with them, and all the birds of night waked up +and sang. + +The beautiful moon--the very moon of all the harvest-homes since the +earth was made--shone on them as they went; and by the time they had +reached the portico of the old comfortable mansion, evening had cast +such shadows, far and near, that only the outlines of the forms were +seen, as they passed in through the deep shadow. + +They did not see that Verty's hand held little Redbud's; and that he +looked her with a tenderness which could not be mistaken. But Redbud +saw it, and a flush passed over her delicate cheek, on which the +maiden moon looked down and smiled. + +So the day ended. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +BACK TO WINCHESTER, WHERE EDITORIAL INIQUITY IS DISCOURSED OF. + + +Busy with the various fortunes of our other personages, we have +not been able of late to give much attention to the noble poet, +Roundjacket, with whose ambition and great thoughts, this history has +heretofore somewhat concerned itself. + +Following the old, fine chivalric mansion, "_Place aux dames_!" we +have necessarily been compelled to elbow the cavaliers from the stage, +and pass by in silence, without listening to them. Now, however, when +we have written our pastoral canto, and duly spoken of the sayings and +doings of Miss Redbud and Miss Fanny--used our best efforts to place +upon record what they amused themselves with, laughed at, and took +pleasure in, under the golden trees of the beautiful woods, and in the +happy autumn fields--now we are at liberty to return to our good old +border town, and those other personages of the history, whose merits +have not been adequately recognized. + +When Verty entered Winchester, on the morning after the events, or +rather idle country scenes, which we have related, he was smiling and +joyous; and the very clatter of Cloud's hoofs made Longears merry. + +Verty dismounted, and turned the knob of the office-door. + +In opening, it struck against the back of Mr. Roundjacket, who, pacing +hastily up and down the apartment, seemed to be laboring under much +excitement. + +In his left hand, Roundjacket carried a small brown newspaper, with +heavy straggling type, and much dilapidated from its contact with the +equestrian mail-bag, which it had evidently issued from only a short +time before. In his right hand, the poet held a ruler, which described +eccentric circles in the air, and threatened imaginary foes with +torture and extermination. + +The poet's hair stood up; his breath came and went; his coat-skirts +moved from side to side, with indignation; and he evidently regarded +something in the paper with a mixture of horror and despair. + +Verty paused for a moment on the threshold; then took off his hat and +went in. + +Round jacket turned round. + +Verty gazed at him for a moment in silence; then smiling: + +"What is the matter, sir?" he said. + +"Matter, sir!" cried Roundjacket--"everything is the matter, sir!" + +Verty shook his head, as much as to say, that this was a dreadful +state of things, and echoed the word "everything!" + +"Yes, sir! everything!--folly is the matter!--crime is the +matter!--statutory misdemeanor is the matter!" + +And Roundjacket, overcome with indignation, struck the newspaper a +savage blow with his ruler. + +"I am the victim, sir, of editorial iniquity, and typographical +abomination!" + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I am a victim, sir!" + +"Yes, you look angry." + +"I am!" + +Verty shook his head. + +"That is not right," he replied; "Redbud says it is wrong to be +angry--" + +"Redbud!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Consign Miss Redbud--!" + +"Oh, no!" said Verty, "don't do that." + +"I have a right to be angry," continued Roundjacket, flourishing his +ruler; "it would be out of the question for me to be anything else." + +"How, sir?" + +"Do you see that?" + +And Roundjacket held up the paper, flourishing his ruler at it in a +threatening way. + +"The paper, sir?" said Verty. + +"Yes!" + +"What of it?" + +"Abomination!" + +"Oh, sir." + +"Yes! utter abomination!" + +"I don't understand, sir." + +"Mark me!" said Roundjacket. + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is the 'Virginia Gazette.'" + +"Is it, sir?" + +"Published at Williamsburg." + +"I think I've heard of it, sir." + +"Williamsburg, the centre of civilization, cultivation, and the other +ations!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler savagely, and +smiling with bitter scorn. + +"Ah!" said Verty, finding that he was expected to say something. + +"Yes! the Capital of Virginia, forsooth!" + +"Has Williamsburg made you angry, sir?" + +"Yes!" + +"But the 'Gazette'--?" + +"Is the immediate cause." + +Verty sat down. + +"I'm sorry, sir," he said, smiling; "but I don't understand. I never +read the newspapers. Nothing but the Bible--because Redbud wants me +to: I hope to like it after awhile though." + +"I trust you will never throw away your time on this thing!" cried +Roundjacket, running the end of his ruler through the paper; "can you +believe, sir, that the first canto of my great poem has been murdered +in its columns--yes, murdered!" + +"Killed, do you mean, sir?" + +"I do--I mean that the illiterate editor of this disgraceful sheet has +assassinated the offspring of my imagination!" + +"That was very wrong, sir." + +"Wrong? It was infamous? What should be done with such a man!" cried +Roundjacket. + +"Arrest him?" suggested Verty. + +"It is not a statutable offence." + +"What, sir?" + +"Neglecting to send sheets to correct." + +"Anan?" said Verty, who did not understand. + +"I mean that I have not had an opportunity to correct the printed +verses, sir; and that I complain of." + +Verty nodded. + +"Mark me," said Roundjacket; "the publisher, editor, or reviewer who +does not send sheets to the author for correction, will inevitably +perish, in the end, from the tortures of remorse!" + +"Ah?" said Verty. + +"Yes, sir! the pangs of a guilty conscience will not suffer him to +sleep; and death only will end his miserable existence." + +Which certainly had the air of an undoubted truth. + +"See!" said Mr. Roundjacket, relapsing into the pathetic--"see how +my unfortunate offspring has been mangled--maimed--a statutory +offence--mayhem!--see Bacon's Abridgment, page ----; but I wander. +See," continued Roundjacket, "that is all that is left of the +original." + +"Yes, sir," said Verty. + +"The very first line is unrecognizable." + +And Roundjacket put his handkerchief to his eyes and sniffled. + +Verty tried not to smile. + +"It's very unfortunate, sir," he said; "but perhaps the paper--I mean +yours--was not written plain." + +"Written plain!" cried Roundjacket, suppressing his feelings. + +"Yes, sir--the manuscript, I believe, it is called." + +"Well, no--it was not written plain--of course not." + +Verty looked surprised, spite of his own suggestion. + +"I thought you wrote as plain as print, Mr. Roundjacket." + +"I do." + +"Why then--?" + +"Not do so in the present instance, do you mean?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Young man," said Roundjacket, solemnly, "it is easy to see that you +are shockingly ignorant of the proprieties of life--or you never would +have suggested such a thing." + +"What thing, sir?" + +"Plain writing in an author." + +"Oh!" said Verty. + +"Mark me," continued Roundjacket, with affecting gravity, "the +unmistakable evidence of greatness is not the brilliant eye, the fine +forehead, or the firm-set lip; neither is the 'lion port' or +noble carriage--it is far more simple, sir. It lies wholly in the +hand-writing." + +"Possible, sir?" + +"Yes; highly probable even. No great man ever yet wrote legibly, and +I hold that such a thing is conclusive evidence of a narrowness of +intellect. Great men uniformly use a species of scrawl which people +have to study, sir, before they can understand. Like the Oracles of +Delphos, the manuscript is mysterious because it is profound. My own +belief, sir, is, that Homer's manuscript--if he had one, which I +doubt--resembled a sheet of paper over which a fly with inked feet has +crawled;--and you may imagine, sir, the respect, and, I may add, the +labor, of the old Greek type-setters in publishing the first edition +of the Iliad." + +This dissertation had the effect of diverting Mr. Roundjacket's mind +temporarily from his affliction; but his grief soon returned in full +force again. + +"To think it!" he cried, flourishing his ruler, and ready to +weep,--"to think that after taking all the trouble to disguise my +clear running hand, and write as became an author of my standing--in +hieroglyphics--to think that this should be the result of all my +trouble." + +Roundjacket sniffed. + +"Don't be sorry," said Verty. + +"I cannot refrain, sir," said Roundjacket, in a tone of acute agony; +"it is more than I can bear. See here, sir, again: 'High Jove! great +father!' is changed into 'By Jove, I'd rather!' and so on. Sir, it +is more than humanity can bear; I feel that I shall sink under it. I +shall be in bed to-morrow, sir--after all my trouble--'By Jove!'" + +With this despairing exclamation Roundjacket let his head fall, +overcome with grief, upon his desk, requesting not to be spoken to, +after the wont of great unfortunates. + +Verty seemed to feel great respect for this overwhelming grief; at +least he did not utter any commonplace consolations. He also leaned +upon his desk, and his idle hands traced idle lines upon the paper +before him. + +His dreamy eyes, full of quiet pleasure, fixed themselves upon the far +distance--he was thinking of Redbud. + +He finally aroused himself, however, and began to work. Half an hour, +an hour, another hour passed--Verty was breaking himself into the +traces; he had finished his work. + +He rose, and going to Mr. Rushton's door, knocked and opened it. The +lawyer was not there; Verty looked round--his companion was absorbed +in writing. + +Verty sat down in the lawyer's arm-chair. + + + +CHAPTER L. + +HOW VERTY DISCOVERED A PORTRAIT, AND WHAT ENSUED. + + +For some time the young man remained motionless and silent, thinking +of Redbud, and smiling with the old proverbial delight of lovers, +as the memory of her bright sweet face, and kind eyes, came to his +thoughts. + +There was now no longer any doubt, assuredly, that he was what was +called "in love" with Redbud; Verty said as much to himself, and we +need not add that when this circumstance occurs, the individual who +comes to such conclusion, is no longer his own master, or the master +of his heart, which is gone from him. + +For as it is observable that persons often imagine themselves affected +with material ailments when there is no good ground for such a +supposition; so, on the other hand, is it true that those who labor +under the disease of love are the last to know their own condition. +As Verty, therefore, came to the conclusion that he must be "in love" +with Redbud, we may form a tolerably correct idea of the actual fact. + +Why should he not love her? Redbud was so kind, so tender; her large +liquid eyes were instinct with such deep truth and goodness; in her +fresh, frank face there was such radiant joy, and purity, and love! +Surely, a mortal sin to do otherwise than love her! And Verty +congratulated himself on exemption from this sad sin of omission. + +He sat thus, looking with his dreamy smile through the window, across +which the shadows of the autumn trees flitted and played. Listlessly +he took up a pen, nibbed the feather with his old odd smile, and began +to scrawl absently on the sheet of paper lying before him. + +The words he wrote there thus unconsciously, were some which he had +heard Redbud utter with her soft, kind voice, which dwelt in his +memory. + +"Trust in God." + +This Verty wrote, scarcely knowing he did so; then he threw down the +pen, and reclining in the old lawyer's study chair, fell into one of +those Indian reveries which the dreamy forests seem to have taught the +red men. + +As the young man thus reclined in the old walnut chair, clad in his +forest costume, with his profuse tangled curls, and smiling lips, and +half-closed eyes, bathed in the vagrant gleams of golden sunlight, +even Monsignor might have thought the picture not unworthy of his +pencil. But he could not have reproduced the wild, fine picture; for +in Verty's face was that dim and dreamy smile which neither pencil nor +words can describe on paper or canvas. + +At last he roused himself, and waked to the real life around +him--though his thoughtful eyes were still overshadowed. + +He looked around. + +He had never been alone in Mr. Rushton's sanctum before, and naturally +regarded the objects before him with curiosity. + +There was an old press, covered with dust and cobwebs, on the top of +which huge volumes of Justinian's Institutes frowned at the ceiling; a +row of shelves which were crammed with law books; an old faded carpet +covered with ink-splotches on his right hand, splotches evidently +produced by the lawyer's habit of shaking the superfluous ink from his +pen before he placed it upon the paper; a dilapidated chair or two; +the rough walnut desk at which he sat, covered with papers, open law +volumes, and red tape; and finally, a tall mantel-piece, on which +stood a half-emptied ink bottle--which mantel-piece rose over a wide +fire-place, surrounded with a low iron fender, on which a dislocated +pair of tongs were exposed in grim resignation to the evils of old +age. + +There was little to interest Verty in all this--or in the old +iron-bound trunks in the corners. + +But his eye suddenly falls on a curtain, in the recess farthest from +the door--the edge of a curtain; for the object which this curtain +conceals, is not visible from the chair in which he sits. + +Verty rises, and goes into the recess, and looks. + +The curtain falls over a picture--Verty raises it, and stands in +admiration before the portrait, which it covered. + +"What a lovely child!" he exclaims. "I have never seen a prettier +little girl in all my life! What beautiful hair she has!" + +And Verty, with the curtain in his left hand, blows away the dust from +the canvas. + +The portrait is indeed exquisite. The picture represents a child of +two or three years of age, of rare and surpassing beauty. Over its +white brow hang long yellow ringlets--the eyes dance and play--the +ripe, ruddy lips, resembling cherries, are wreathed with the careless +laughter of infancy. The child wears a little blue frock which permits +two round, fat arms to be seen; and one of the hands grasps a doll, +drawn to the life. There is so much freshness and reality about the +picture, that Verty exclaims a second time, "What a lovely little +girl!" + +Thus absorbed in the picture, he does not hear a growling voice in the +adjoining room--is not conscious of the heavy step advancing toward +the room he occupies--does not even hear the door open as the new +comer enters. + +"Who can she be!" murmurs the young man; "not Mr. Rushton's little +daughter--I never heard that he was married, or had any children. +Pretty little thing!" + +And Verty smiled. + +Suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a gruff, stern +voice said: + +"What are you doing, sir?" + +Verty turned quickly; Mr. Rushton stood before him--gloomy, +forbidding, with a heavy frown upon his brow. + +"What are you prying into?" repeated the lawyer, angrily; "are you not +aware, sir, that this is my private apartment? What has induced you to +presume in such a manner?" + +Verty was almost terrified by the sternness of these cold words, and +looked down. Then conscious of the innocence of his action, raised his +eyes, and said: + +"I came in to give you the copy of the deed, sir,--and saw the +curtain--and thought I would--" + +"Pry into my secrets," said Mr. Rushton; "very well, sir!" + +"I did not mean to pry," said Verty, proudly; "I did not think there +was any harm in such a little thing. I hope, sir, you will not think +I meant anything wrong," added Verty--"indeed I did not; and I only +thought this was some common picture, with a curtain over it to keep +off the dust." + +But the lawyer, with a sudden change of manner, had turned his eyes to +the portrait; and did not seem to hear the exclamation. + +"I hope you will not think hard of me, Mr. Rushton," said Verty; "you +have been very good to me, and I would not do anything to offend you +or give you pain." + +No answer was vouchsafed to this speech either. The rough lawyer, +with more and more change in his expression, was gazing at the fresh +portrait, the curtain of which Verty had thrown over one of the upper +corners of the frame. + +Verty followed the look of Mr. Rushton; and gazed upon the picture. + +"It is very lovely," he said, softly; "I never saw a sweeter face." + +The lawyer's breast heaved. + +"And what ringlets--I believe they call 'em," continued Verty, +absorbed in contemplating the portrait;--"I love the pretty little +thing already, sir." + +Mr. Rushton sat down in the chair, which Verty had abandoned, and +covered his face. + +"Did you know her?--but oh, I forgot!--how wrong in me!" murmured +Verty; "I did not think that she might be--Mr. Rushton--forgive my--" + +The lawyer, with his face still covered, motioned toward the door. + +"Must I go, sir?" + +"Yes--go," came from the lips which uttered a groan--a groan of such +anguish, that Verty almost groaned in unison. + +And murmuring "Anna! Anna!" the lawyer shook. + +The young man went toward the door. As he opened it, he heard an +exclamation behind him. + +He turned his head. + +"What's this!" cried the lawyer, in a tone between a growl and a sob. + +"What, sir?" + +"This paper." + +"Sir?" + +"This paper with--with--'Trust in God' on it; did you write it?" + +"I--I--must--yes--I suppose I did, sir," stammered Verty, almost +alarmed by the tone of his interlocutor. + +"What did you mean?" + +"Nothing, sir!" + +"You had the boldness to write this canting--hypocritical--" + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"You wrote it?" + +"Yes, sir; and it is right, though I did'nt mean to write it--or know +it." + +"Very grand!" + +"Sir?" + +"You bring your wretched--" + +"Oh, I did'nt know I wrote it even, sir! But indeed that is not right, +sir. All of us ought to trust in God, however great our afflictions +are, sir." + +"Go!" cried the lawyer, rising with a furious gesture--"away, sir! +Preach not to me--you may be right--but take your sermons elsewhere. +Look there, sir! at that portrait!--look at me now, a broken +man--think that--but this is folly! Leave me to myself!" + +And strangling a passionate sob, the lawyer sank again into his chair, +covering his face. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +A CHILD AND A LOGICIAN. + + +To describe the astonishment of Verty, as he hastily went out and +closed the door, would be impossible. His face passed from red to +pale, his eyes were full of bewilderment--he sat down, scarcely +knowing what he did, + +Roundjacket sat writing at his desk, and either had not heard, or +pretended that he had not, any portion of the passionate colloquy. + +Verty could do nothing all day, for thinking of the astonishing scene +he had passed through. Why should there be anything offensive in +raising the curtain of a portrait? Why should so good a man as Mr. +Rushton, address such insulting and harsh words to him for such a +trifling thing? How was it possible that the simple words, 'Trust in +God,' had been the occasion of such anger, nay, almost fury? + +The longer Verty pondered, the less he understood; or at least he +understood no better than before, which amounted precisely to no +understanding at all. + +He got through his day after a very poor fashion; and, going along +under the evening skies, cudgelled his brains, for the thousandth +time, for some explanation of this extraordinary circumstance. In +vain! the explanation never came; and finding himself near Apple +Orchard, the young man determined to banish the subject, and go in and +see Redbud. + +The young girl had been imprudent in remaining out so late, on the +preceding evening, and her cold had returned, with slight fever, +which, however, gave her little inconvenience. + +She lay upon the sofa, near the open window, with a shawl over her +feet, and, when Verty entered, half-rose, only giving him her hand +tenderly. + +Verty sat down, and they began, to talk in the old, friendly way; and, +as the evening deepened, to laugh and mention old things which they +both remembered--uniting thus in the dim twilight all the golden +threads which bind the present to the past--gossamer, which are not +visible by the glaring daylight, but are seen when the soft twilight +descends on the earth. + +Redbud even, at Verty's request, essayed one of the old Scottish songs +which he was fond of; and the gentle carol filled the evening with its +joy and musical delight. This was rather dangerous in Verty--surely +he was quite enough in love already! Why should he rivet the fetters, +insist upon a new set of shackles, and a heavier chain! + +Verty told Redbud of the singular circumstance of the morning, and +demanded an explanation. Her wonder was as great as his own, however; +and she remained silently gazing at the sunset, and pondering. A shake +of the head betrayed her want of success in this attempt to unravel +the mystery, especially the lawyer's indignation at the words written +by Verty. + +They passed from this to quite a grave discussion upon the truth of +the maxim in question, which Redbud and her companion, we may imagine, +did not differ upon. The girl had just said--"For you know, Verty, +everything is for the best, and we should not murmur,"--when a gruff +voice at the door replied: + +"Pardon me, Miss Redbud--that is a pretty maxim--nothing more, +however." + +And Mr. Rushton, cold and impassable, came in with the jovial Squire. + +"So busy talking, young people, that you could not even look out the +window when I approach with visitors, eh?" cried the Squire, chuckling +Miss Redbud under the chin, and driving the breath out of Verty's body +by a friendly slap upon that gentleman's back. "Well, here we are, and +there's Lavinia--bless her heart--with an expression which indicates +protestation at the loudness of my voice, ha! ha!" + +And the Squire laughed in a way which shook the windows. + +Miss Lavinia smiled in a solemn manner, and busied herself about tea. + +Redbud turned to Mr. Rushton, who had seated himself with an +expression of grim reserve, and, smiling, said: + +"I did not hear you--exactly what you said--as you came in, you know, +Mr. Rushton--" + +"I said that your maxim, 'All is for the best,' is a pretty maxim, and +no more," replied the lawyer, regarding Verty with an air of rough +indifference, as though he tad totally forgotten the scene of the +morning. + +"I'm sure you are wrong, sir," Redbud said. + +"Very likely--to be taught by a child!" grumbled the lawyer. + +Redbud caught the words. + +"I know I ought not to dispute with you, sir," she said; "but what I +said is in the Bible, and you know that cannot contain what is not +true." + +"Hum!" said Mr. Rushton. "That was an unhappy age--and the philosophy +of Voltaire and Rousseau had produced its effect even on the strongest +minds." + +"God does all for the best, and He is a merciful and loving Being," +said Redbud. "Even if we suffer here, in this world, every affliction, +we know that there is a blessed recompense in the other world." + +"Humph!--how?" said the skeptic. + +"By faith?" + +"What is faith?" he said, looking carelessly at the girl. + +"I don't know that I can define it better than belief and trust in +God," said Redbud. + +These were the words which Verty had written on the paper. + +The glance of the lawyer fell upon the young man's face, and from +it passed to the innocent countenance of Redbud. She had evidently +uttered the words without the least thought of the similarity. + +"Humph," said the lawyer, frowning, "that is very fine, Miss; but +suppose we cannot see anything to give us a very lively--faith, as you +call it." + +"Oh, but you may, sir!" + +"How?" + +"Everywhere there are evidences of God's goodness and mercy. You +cannot doubt that." + +A shadow passed over the rough face. + +"I do doubt it," was on his lips, but he could not, rude as he was, +utter such a sentence in presence of the pure, childlike girl. + +"Humph," he said, with his habitual growl, "suppose a man is made +utterly wretched in this world--" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And without any fault of his own suffers horribly," continued the +lawyer, sternly. + +"We are all faulty, sir." + +"I mean--did anybody ever hear such reasoning! Excuse me, but I am a +little out of sorts," he growled, apologetically--"I mean that you +may suppose a man to suffer some peculiar torture--torture, you +understand--which he has not deserved. I suppose that has happened; +how can such a man have your faith, and love, and trust, and all +that--if we must talk theology!" growled the bearish speaker. + +"But, Mr. Rushton," said Redbud, "is not heaven worth all the world +and its affections?" + +"Yes--your heaven is." + +"_My_ heaven--?" + +"Yes, yes--heaven!" cried the lawyer, impatiently--"everybody's heaven +that chooses. But you were about to say--" + +"This, sir: that if heaven is so far above earth, and those who are +received there by God, enjoy eternal happiness--" + +"Very well!" + +"That this inestimable gift is cheaply bought by suffering in this +world;--that the giver of this great good has a right to try even to +what may seem a cruel extent, the faith and love of those for whom he +decrees this eternal bliss. Is not that rational, sir?" + +"Yes, and theological--what, however, is one to do if the said love +and faith sink and disappear--are drowned in tears, or burnt up in the +fires of anguish and despair." + +"Pray, sir," said Redbud, softly. + +The lawyer growled. + +"To whom? To a Being whom we have no faith in--whom such a man has no +faith in, I mean to say--to the hand that struck--which we can +only think of as armed with an avenging sword, or an all-consuming +firebrand! Pray to one who stands before us as a Nemesis of wrath and +terror, hating and ready to crush us?--humph!" + +And the lawyer wiped his brow. + +"Can't we think of the Creator differently," said Redbud, earnestly. + +"How?" + +"As the Being who came down upon the earth, and suffered, and wept +tears of blood, was buffeted and crowned with thorns, and crucified +like a common, degraded slave--all because he loved us, and would not +see us perish? Oh! Mr. Rushton, if there are men who shrink from the +terrible God--who cannot love _that_ phase of the Almighty, why should +they not turn to the Saviour, who, God as he was, came down and +suffered an ignominious death, because he loved them--so dearly loved +them!" + +Mr. Rushton was silent for a moment; then he said, coldly: + +"I did not intend to talk upon these subjects--I only intended to say, +that trusting in Providence, as the phrase is, sounds very grand; and +has only the disadvantage of not being very easy. Come, Miss Redbud, +suppose we converse on the subject of flowers, or something that is +more light and cheerful." + +"Yes, sir, I will; but I don't think anything is more cheerful than +Christianity, and I love to talk about it. I know what you say about +the difficulty of trusting wholly in God, is true; it is very hard. +But oh! Mr. Rushton, believe me, that such trust will not be in vain; +even in this world Our Father often shows us that he pities our +sufferings, and His hand heals the wound, or turns aside the blow. Oh, +yes, sir! even in this world the clouds are swept away, and the sun +shines again; and the heart which has trusted in God finds that its +trust was not in vain in the Lord. Oh! I'm sure of it, sir!--I feel +it--I know that it is _true_!" + +And Redbud, buried in thought, looked through the window--silent, +after these words which we have recorded. + +The lawyer only looked strangely at her--muttered his "humph," and +turned away. Verty alone saw the spasm which he had seen in the +morning pass across the rugged brow. + +While this colloquy had been going on, the Squire had gone into his +apartment to wash his hands; and now issuing forth, requested an +explanation of the argument he had heard going on. This explanation +was refused with great bearishness by the lawyer, and Redbud said they +had only been talking about Providence. + +The Squire said that was a good subject; and then going to his +escritoire took out some papers, placed them on the mantel-piece, and +informed Mr. Rushton that those were the documents he desired. + +The lawyer greeted this information with his customary growl, and +taking them, thrust them into his pocket. He then made a movement to +go; but the Squire persuaded him to stay and have a cup of tea. Verty +acquiesced in his suggestion that _he_ should spend the evening, with +the utmost readiness--_ma mere_ would not think it hard if he remained +an hour, he said. + +And so the cheerful meal was cheerfully spread, and the twigs in the +fire-place crackled, and diffused their brief, mild warmth through +the cool evening air, and Caesar yawned upon the rug, and all went +merrily. + +The old time-piece overhead ticked soberly, and the soft face of +Redbud's mother looked down from its frame upon them; and the room was +full of cheerfulness and light. + +And still the old clock ticked and ticked, and carried all the world +toward eternity; the fire-light crackled, and the voices laughed;--the +portrait looked serenely down, and smiled. + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +HOW MR. JINKS DETERMINED TO SPARE VERTY. + + +Ralph stretched himself. + +Mr. Jinks sipped his rum, and ruminated. + +Ralph was smiling; Mr. Jinks scowling, and evidently busy with great +thoughts, which caused his brows to corrugate into hostile frowns. + +It was the room of Mr. Jinks, in Bousch's tavern, which saw the +companions seated thus opposite to each other--the time, after +breakfast; the aim of the parties, discussion upon any or every topic. + +Mr. Jinks was clad in his habitual costume: half dandy, half +_militaire_; and when he moved, his great sword rattled against his +grasshopper legs in a way terrifying to hear. + +Ralph, richly dressed as usual, and reclining in his chair, smiled +lazily, and looked at the scowling Mr. Jinks. The apartment in which +the worthies were seated was one possessing the advantages of dormer +windows, and an extensive prospect over the roofs of Winchester; the +furniture was rough; and in the corner a simple couch stood, whereon +Mr. Jinks reposed himself at night. + +While the various events which we have lately adverted to have been +occurring, Mr. Jinks has not forgotten that triple and grand revenge +he swore. + +Mr. Jinks has un-christian feelings against three persons, for three +reasons: + +First, against Verty: the cause being that gentleman's defiance and +disregard of himself on various occasions; also his rivalry in love. + +Second, against Miss Sallianna: beautiful and perfidious; the cause: +slights put on his youthful love. + +Third, against O'Brallaghan; the cause: impudence on various +occasions, and slanderous reports relating to cabbaged cloth since the +period of their dissolving all connection with each other. + +Mr. Jinks has revolved, in the depths of his gloomy soul, these +darling projects, and has, perforce of his grand faculty of invention, +determined upon his course in two out of the three affairs. + +Verty annoys him, however. Mr. Jinks has ceased to think of a brutal, +ignoble contest with vulgar fists or weapons ever since the muzzle of +Verty's rifle invaded his ruffles on the morning of his woes. He would +have a revenge worthy of himself--certain, complete, and above all, +quite safe. Mr. Jinks would wile the affections of Miss Redbud from +him, fixing the said affections on himself; but that is not possible, +since the young lady in question has gone home, and Apple Orchard is +too far to walk. Still Mr. Jinks does not despair of doing something; +and this something is what he seeks and ruminates upon, as the mixed +rum and water glides down his throat. + +Ralph yawns, laughs, and kicks his heels. + +Then he rises; goes to the mantel-piece and gets a pipe; and begins to +smoke--lazier than ever. + +Mr. Jinks sets down his cup, and murmurs. + +"Hey!" cries Ralph, sending out a cloud of smoke, "what are you +groaning about, my dear fellow?" + +"I want money," says Mr. Jinks. + +"For what?" + +"To buy a horse." + +"A horse?" + +Mr. Jinks nods. + +"What do you want with a horse?" + +"Revenge," replies Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph begins to laugh. + +"Oh, yes," he says, "we spoke of that; against Sallianna. I'll assist +you, my boy. The fact is, I have caught the infection of a friend's +sentiments on Sallianna the divine. I have a cousin who abominates +her. I'll assist you!" + +"No; that affair is arranged," says Mr. Jinks, with gloomy pleasure; +"that will give me no trouble. That young man Verty is the enemy I +allude to. I want revenge." + +And Mr. Jinks rattled his sword. + +Ralph looked with a mischievous expression at his friend. + +"But I say," he observed, "how would a horse come in there? Do you +want to run a-tilt against Sir Verty, eh? That is characteristic of +you, Jinks!" + +"No," says Mr. Jinks, "I have other designs." + +"What are they?" + +"You are reliable!" + +"Reliable! I should say I was! Come, make me your confidant." + +Mr. Jinks complies with this request, and details his plans against +Verty and Redbud's happiness. He would ride to Apple Orchard, and win +his rival's sweetheart's affections; then laugh "triumphantly with +glee." That is Mr. Jinks' idea. + +Ralph thinks it not feasible, and suggests a total abandonment of +revengeful feelings toward Verty. + +"Suppose I sent him a cartel, then," says Mr. Jinks, after a pause. + +"A cartel?" + +"Yes; something like this." + +And taking a preparatory gulp of the rum, Mr. Jinks continues: + +"Suppose I write these words to him: 'A. Jinks, Esq., presents his +compliments to ---- Verty, Esq., and requests to be informed at what +hour Mr. Verty will attend in front of Bousch's tavern, for the +purpose of having himself exterminated and killed? How would that do?" + +Ralph chokes down a laugh, and, pretending to regard Mr. Jinks with +deep admiration, says: + +"An excellent plan--very excellent." + +"You think so?" says his companion, dubiously. + +"Yes, yes; you should, however, be prepared for one thing." + +"What is that?" + +"Mr. Verty's reply." + +"What would that be, sir? He is not a rash young man, I believe?" + +"No--just the contrary. His reply would be courteous and cool." + +"Ah?" + +"He would write under your letter, demanding at what hour you should +kill him--'ten,' or 'twelve,' or 'four in the afternoon'--at which +time he would come and proceed to bloodshed." + +"Bloodshed?" + +"Yes; he's a real Indian devil, although he looks mild, my clear +fellow. If you are going to send the cartel, you might as well do so +at once." + +"No--no--I will think of it," replies Mr. Jinks; "I will spare him a +little longer. There is no necessity for hurry. A plenty of time!" + +And Mr. Jinks clears his throat, and for the present abandons thoughts +of revenge on Verty. + +Ralph sees the change of sentiment, and laughs. + +"Well," he says, "there is something else on your mind, Jinks, my boy; +what is it? No more revenge?" + +"Yes!" + +"Against whom, you epitome of Italian hatred." + +Mr. Jinks frowns, and says: + +"Against O'Brallaghan!" + +"No!" cries Ralph. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I, myself, hate that man!" + +"Then we can assist each other." + +"Yes--yes." + +"We can make it nice, and good, and fine," says Mr. Jinks, smacking +his lips over the rum, as if he was imbibing liquid vengeance, and was +pleased with the flavor. + +"No!" cries Ralph again. + +"Yes!" says Mr. Jinks. + +"Revenge, nice and good?" + +"Supreme!" + +"How?" + +"Listen!" + +"Stop a moment, my dear fellow," said Ralph; "don't be hasty." + +And, rising, Ralph went to the door, opened it, and looked out +cautiously, after which, he closed it, and turned the key in the lock; +then he went to the fire-place, and looked up the chimney with a +solemn air of precaution, which was very striking. Then he returned +and took his seat, and with various gurglings of a mysterious nature +in his throat, said: + +"You have a communication to make, Jinks?" + +"I have, sir." + +"In relation to revenge." + +"Yes." + +"Then go on, old fellow; the time is propitious--I am listening." + +And Ralph looked attentively at Mr. Jinks. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + +PROJECTS OF REVENGE, INVOLVING HISTORICAL DETAILS. + + +The companions looked at each other and shook their heads; Mr. Jinks +threateningly, Ralph doubtfully. That gentleman seemed to be dubious +of his friend's ability to prepare a revenge suitable to the deserts +of O'Brallaghan, who had sold his favorite coat. + +Mr. Jinks, however, looked like a man certain of victory. + +"Revenge, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "is of two descriptions. There is the +straight-forward, simple, vulgar hitting at a man, or caning him; and +the quiet, artistic arrangement of a drama, which comes out right, +sir, without fuss, or other exterior effusion." + +And after this masterly distinction, Mr. Jinks raised his head, and +regarded Ralph with pride and complacency. + +"Yes" said the young man; "what you say is very true, my boy; go +on--go on." + +"Genius is shown, sir, in the manner of doing it--" + +"Yes." + +"Of working on the materials around you." + +"True; that is the test of genius; you are right. Now explain your +idea." + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "that is easy. In this town, wherein +we reside--I refer to Winchester--there are two prominent classes, +besides the English-Virginia people." + +"Are there?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Tell me--you mean--" + +"The natives of the Emerald Isle, and those from the land of sour +krout," said Mr. Jinks, with elegant paraphrase. + +"You mean Dutch and Irish?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well; I understand that. Let me repeat: in the town of +Winchester there are two classes, besides the natives--Dutch and +Irish. Is that right? I never was very quick." + +"Just right." + +"Well, tell me about them, and how your revenge is concerned with +them. Tell me all about them. Dutch and Irish!--I know nothing of +them." + +"I will, sir,--I will tell you," said Mr. Jinks, gulping down +one-fourth of his glass of rum; "and, I think, by the time I have +developed my idea, you will agree with me that the revenge I have +chalked out, sir, is worthy of an inventive talent higher than my +own." + +"No, no," said Ralph, in a tone of remonstrance, "you know there could +be none." + +"Yes," said Mr. Jinks, modestly, "I know myself, sir--I have very +little merits, but there are those who are superior to me in that +point." + +Which seemed to mean that the quality of invention was the sole +failing in Mr. Jinks' intellect--all his other mental gifts being +undoubtedly superior to similar gifts in humanity at large. + +"Well, we won't interchange compliments, my dear fellow," replied +Ralph, puffing at his pipe; "go on and explain about the Dutch and +Irish--I repeat, that I absolutely know nothing of them." + +Mr. Jinks sipped his rum, and after a moment's silence, commenced. + +"You must know," he said, "that for some reason which I cannot +explain, there is a quarrel between these people which has lasted a +very long time, and it runs to a great height--" + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes; and on certain days there is a feeling which can only be +characterized by the assertion that the opposite parties desire to +suffuse the streets and public places with each other's gory blood!" + +"No, no!" said Ralph; "is it possible!" + +"Yes, sir, it is more--it is true," said Mr. Jinks, with dignity. "I +myself have been present on such occasions; and the amount of national +feeling displayed is--is--worse than mouldy cloth," observed Mr. +Jinks, at a loss for a simile, and driven, as he, however, very seldom +was, to his profession for an illustration. + +"I wonder at that," said Ralph; "as bad as mouldy cloth? I never would +have thought it!" + +"Nevertheless it's true--dooms true," said Mr. Jinks; "and there +are particular days when the rage of the parties comes up in one +opprobrious concentrated mass!" + +This phrase was borrowed from Miss Sallianna. Mr. Jinks, like other +great men, was not above borrowing without giving the proper credit. + +"On St. Patrick's day," he continued, "the Dutch turn out in a body--" + +"One moment, my dear fellow; I don't like to interrupt you, but this +St. Patrick you speak of--he was the great saint of Ireland, was he +not?" + +"Good--continue; on St. Patrick's day--" + +"The Dutch assemble and parade a figure--you understand, either of +wood or a man--a figure representing St. Patrick--" + +"Possible!" + +"Yes; and round his neck they place a string of Irish potatoes, like a +necklace--" + +"A necklace! what an idea. Not pearls or corals--potatoes!" And Ralph +laughed with an expression of innocent surprise, which was only +adopted on great occasions. + +"Yes," said Mr. Jinks, "of potatoes; and you may imagine what a sight +it is--the saint dressed up in that way." + +"Really! it must be side-splitting." + +"It is productive of much gory sport," said Mr. Jinks. + +"Ah!" said Ralph, "I should think so. Gory is the very word." + +"Besides this they have another figure--" + +"The Dutch have?" + +"Yes." + +"What is it?" + +"It is a woman, sir--" + +"No--no," said Ralph. + +"It is, sir," replied Mr. Jinks, with resolute adherence to his +original declaration,--"it is Saint Patrick's wife, Sheeley--" + +"Oh, no!" cried Ralph. + +"Yes; and she is supplied with a huge apron full of--what do you +think?" + +"Indulgences?" said Ralph. + +"No, sir!" + +"What then?" + +"Potatoes again." + +"Potatoes! Sheeley with her apron full of--" + +"Excellent Irish potatoes." + +"Would anybody have imagined such a desecration!" + +"They do it, sir; and having thus laughed at the Irish, the Dutch go +parading through the streets; and in consequence--" + +"The Irish--?" + +"Yes--" + +"Make bloody noses and cracked crowns, and pass them current, too?" +asked Ralph, quoting from Shakspeare. + +"Yes, exactly," said Mr. Jinks; "and the day on which this takes +place--Saint Patrick's day--is generally submerged in gore!" + +Ralph remained for a moment overcome with horror at this dreadful +picture. + +"Jinks," he said, at last. + +"Sir?" said Mr. Jinks. + +"I fear you are too military and bloody for me. My nerves will not +stand these awful pictures!" + +And Ralph shuddered; or perhaps chuckled. + +"That is only half of the subject," Mr. Jinks said, displaying much +gratification at the deep impression produced upon the feelings of his +companion; "the Irish, on St. Michael's day--the patron saint of the +Dutch, you know--" + +"Yes." + +"The Irish take their revenge." + +And at the word revenge, Mr. Jinks' brows were corrugated into a +dreadful frown. + +Ralph looked curious. + +"How?" he said; "I should think the Dutch had exhausted the power and +capacity of invention. St. Patrick, with a necklace of potatoes, and +his wife Sheeley, with an apron full of the same vegetables, is surely +enough for one day--" + +"Yes, for St. Patrick's day, but not for St. Michael's," said Mr. +Jinks, with a faint attempt at a witticism. + +"Good!" cried Ralph; "you are a wit, Jinks; but proceed! On St. +Michael's day--the patron saint of the Dutch--" + +"On that day, sir, the Irish retort upon the Dutch by parading an +image--wooden or alive--of St. Michael--" + +"No!" + +"An image," continued Mr. Jinks, not heeding this interruption, "which +resembles St. Michael--that is, a hogshead." + +"Yes," laughed Ralph, "I understand how a Dutch saint--" + +"Is fat; that is natural, sir. They dress him in six pair of +pantaloons, which I have heretofore, I am ashamed to say, +fabricated,"--Mr. Jinks frowned here,--"then they hang around his neck +a rope of sour krout--" + +"No, no!" cried Ralph. + +"And so parade him," continued Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph remained silent again, as though overwhelmed by this picture. + +"The consequence is, that the Irish feel themselves insulted," +Mr. Jinks went on, "and they attack the Dutch, and then the whole +street--" + +"Is suffused in gory blood, is it not?" said Ralph, inquiringly. + +"It is, sir," said Mr. Jinks; "and I have known the six pair of +pantaloons, made by my own hands, to be torn to tatters." + +"Possible!" + +"Yes, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, irate at the recollection of those old +scenes--he had been compelled to mend the torn pantaloons more than +once--"yes, sir, and the wretches have proceeded even to shooting and +cutting, which is worthy of them, sir! On some days, the Dutch and +the Irish parade their images together, and then St. Patrick and +St. Michael are brought face to face; and you may understand how +disgraceful a mob they have--a mob, sir, which, as a military man, I +long to mow with iron cannons!" + +And after this dreadful simile, Mr. Jinks remained silent, Ralph also +held his peace for some moments; then he said: + +"But your revenge; how is that connected, my dear fellow, with the +contentions of Dutch and Irish?" + +Mr. Jinks frowned. + +"Thus, sir," he said; "I will explain." "Do; I understand you to say +that these customs of the two parties were the materials upon which +your genius would work. How can you--" + +"Listen, sir," said Mr. Jinks. + +"I'm all ears," returned Ralph. + +"Three days from this time," said Mr. Jinks, "these people have +determined to have a great parade, and each of them, the Dutch and +Irish, to exhibit the images of the Saints--" + +"Yes--ah?" said Ralph. + +"It is fixed for the time I mention; and now, sir, a few words +will explain how, without damage to myself, or endangering my +person--considerations which I have no right to neglect--my revenge +on the hound, O'Brallaghan, will come out right! Listen, while I tell +about it; then, sir, judge if the revenge is likely to be nice and +good!" + +And Mr. Jinks scowled, and gulped down some rum. He then paused a +moment, stared the fire-place out of countenance, and scowled again. +He then opened his lips to speak. + +But just as he uttered the first words of his explanation, a knock was +heard at the door, which arrested him. + +Ralph rose and opened it. + +A negro handed him a note, with the information, that the bearer +thereof was waiting below, and would like to see him. + +Ralph opened the letter, and found some money therein, which, with the +signature, explained all. + +"Jinks, my boy," he said, laughing, "we must defer your explanation; +come and go down. The Governor has sent me a note, and Tom is waiting. +Let us descend." + +Mr. Jinks acquiesced. + +They accordingly went down stairs, and issued forth. + +At the door of the tavern was standing a negro, who, at sight of +Ralph, respectfully removed his cap with one hand, while the other arm +leaned on the neck of a donkey about three feet high, which had borne +the stalwart fellow, as such animals only can. + +The negro gave Mr. Ralph a message, in addition to the letter, of no +consequence to our history, and received one in return. + +He then bowed again, and was going to mount and ride away, when Ralph +said, "Stop, Tom!" + +Tom accordingly stopped. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +EXPLOITS OF FODDER. + + +Ralph looked from the donkey to Mr. Jinks, and from Mr. Jinks to the +donkey; then he laughed. + +"I say, my dear fellow," he observed, "you wanted a horse, did'nt +you?" + +"I did, sir," said Mr. Jinks. + +"What do you say to a donkey?" + +Mr. Jinks appeared thoughtful, and gazing at the sky, as though the +clouds interested him, replied: + +"I have no objection to the animal, sir. It was in former times, I am +assured, the animal used by kings, and even emperors. Far be it from +me, therefore, to feel any pride--or look down on the donkey." + +"You'll have to," said Ralph. + +"Have to what, sir?" + +"Look down on Fodder here--we call him Fodder at the farm, because the +rascal won't eat thistles." + +"Fodder, sir?" said Mr. Jinks, gazing along the road, as though in +search of some wagon, laden with cornstalks. + +"The donkey!" + +"Ah?--yes--true--the donkey! Really, a very handsome animal," said Mr. +Jinks, appearing to be aware of the existence of Fodder for the first +time. + +"I asked you how you would like a donkey, instead of a horse, meaning, +in fact, to ask if Fodder would, for the time, answer your warlike and +gallant purposes? If so, my dear fellow, I'll lend him to you--Tom can +go back to the farm in the wagon--it comes and goes every day." + +Tom looked at Mr. Jinks' legs, scratched his head, and grinning from +ear to ear, added the assurance that he was rather pleased to get rid +of Fodder, who was too small for a man of his weight. + +Mr. Jinks received these propositions and assurances, at first, with a +shake of the head: he really could not deprive, etc.; then he looked +dubious; then he regarded Fodder with admiration and affection; then +he assented to Ralph's arrangement, and put his arm affectionately +around Fodder's neck. + +"I love that animal already!" cried the enthusiastic Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph turned aside to laugh. + +"That is highly honorable, Jinks, my boy," he said; "there's no trait +of character more characteristic of a great and exalted intellect, +than kindness to animals." + +"You flatter me, sir." + +"Never--I never flatter. Now, Tom," continued Ralph to the negro," +return homeward, and inform my dear old Governor that, next week, +I shall return, temporarily, to make preparations for my marriage. +Further, relate to him the fate of Fodder--go, sir." + +And throwing Tom, who grinned and laughed, a piece of silver, Ralph +turned again to Jinks. + +"Do you like Fodder?" he said. + +"I consider him the paragon of donkeys," returned Mr. Jinks. + +And, hugging the donkey's neck--"Eh, Fodder?" said Jinks. + +Fodder turned a sleepy looking eye, which was covered with the broad, +square leather of the wagon-bridle, toward Mr. Jinks, and regarded +that gentleman with manifest curiosity. Then shaking his head, lowered +it again, remonstrating with his huge ears against the assaults of the +flies. + +"He likes you already! he admires and respects you, Jinks!" cried +Ralph, bursting into a roar of laughter; "a ride! a ride! mount, sir!" + +"Is he vicious?" asked Mr. Jinks. + +"Hum! he _has_ been known to--to--do dreadful things!" said Ralph, +choking. + +Mr. Jinks drew back. + +"But he won't hurt you--just try." + +"Hum! I'd rather test his character first," said Mr. Jinks; "of course +I'm not afraid; it would be unnecessary for me to prove that, sir--I +wear a sword--" + +"Oh, yes?" + +"But dangerous accidents have frequently resulted from--" + +"Donkeys? you are right. But suppose I mount with you!" said Ralph, +who had fallen into one of his mischievous moods. + +"Hum! sir--will he carry double, do you think?" + +"Carry double! He'd carry a thousand--Fodder would! Just get into +the saddle, and I'll put my handkerchief on his back, and mount +behind--I'll guide him. Come!" + +And Ralph, with a suppressed chuckle, pushed Mr. Jinks toward the +saddle. + +Mr. Jinks looked round--cleared his throat--glanced at the expression +of the donkey's eyes--and endeavored to discover from the movement of +his ears if he was vicious. Fodder seemed to be peaceful--Mr. Jinks +got into the saddle, his grasshopper legs reaching nearly to the +ground. + +"Now!" cried Ralph, vaulting behind him, "now for a ride!" + +And seizing the reins, before Mr. Jinks could even get his feet into +the stirrups, the young man kicked the donkey vigorously, and set off +at a gallop. + +Mr. Jinks leaned forward in the saddle with loud cries, balancing +himself by the pummel, and holding on to the mane. Fodder was +frightened by the cries, and ran like a race-horse, kicking up his +heels, and indeed rendered Ralph's position somewhat perilous. But +that gentleman was experienced, from earliest infancy, in riding +bareback, and held on. He also held Mr. Jinks on. + +The great swordsman continued to utter loud cries, and to remonstrate +piteously. Only the clatter of his sword, and Ralph's shouts of +laughter, answered him. + +Still on! and in five minutes Fodder was opposite the store of +O'Brallaghan. + +A brilliant idea suddenly struck Ralph; with the rapidity and presence +of mind of a great general, he put it into execution. + +Fodder found one rein loosened--the other drawn violently round; the +consequence was, that from a straight course, he suddenly came to +adopt a circular one. Mr. Jinks had just saved himself by wrapping his +legs, so to speak, around the donkey's person, when Ralph's design was +accomplished. + +Fodder, obeying the pull upon the rein, sweeped down upon +O'Brallaghan's shop, and in the midst of the cries of babies, the +barking of dogs, and the shrill screams of elderly ladies, entered +the broad door of the clothes-warehouse, and thrust his nose into Mr. +O'Brallaghan's face, just as that gentleman was cutting out the sixth +pair of pantaloons for himself, in which he was to personate St. +Michael. + +O'Brallaghan staggered back--Ralph burst into a roar of laughter, and +sliding from Fodder, ignominiously retreated, leaving Mr. Jinks and +O'Brallaghan face to face. + +The scene which then ensued is dreadful to even reflect upon, after +the lapse of so many years. Fodder backed into the street immediately, +but he had accomplished the insult to O'Brallaghan. That gentleman ran +out furiously, shears in hand, and with these instruments it seemed to +be his intention to sever the epiglottis of Mr. Jinks, or at least his +ears. + +But, as on a former occasion, when Mr. Jinks threatened to rid the +earth of a scoundrel and a villain, the execution of this scheme was +prevented by the interposition of a third party; so on the present +occasion did the neighbors interfere and quiet the combatants. + +Ralph perfected the reconciliation by declaring that Fodder was +the most vicious and dangerous of animals, and that no one could +rationally wonder at his conduct on this occasion. + +O'Brallaghan thereupon observed that he despised Mr. Jinks too much to +touch him, and would forgive him; and so he elbowed his way through +the crowd of gossips and re-entered his shop, scowling at, and being +scowled at by, the severe Mr. Jinks. + +Ralph also embraced the opportunity to slip through the crowd, and +hasten round a corner; having achieved which movement, he leaned +against a pump, and laughed until two babies playing on the side-walk +nearly choked themselves with marbles as they gazed at him. Then +chuckling to himself, the young-worthy returned toward the tavern, +leaving Mr. Jinks to his fate. + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +WOMAN TRAPS LAID BY MR. JINKS. + + +No sooner had O'Brallaghan retreated into his store, than Mr. Jinks +cast after him defiant words and gestures, calling on the crowd to +take notice that O'Brallaghan had ignominiously yielded ground, and +declined his, Mr. Jinks', proposition to have a combat. + +If any wonder is felt at Mr. Jinks' bravery, we may dispel it, +probably, by explaining that Mr. O'Brallaghan had two or three months +before been bound over in a large sum to keep the peace of the +commonwealth against the inhabitants of the said commonwealth, +and especially that portion of them who dwelt in the borough of +Winchester; which fact Mr. Jinks was well acquainted with, and shaped +his conduct by. If there was anything which O'Brallaghan preferred to +a personal encounter with fists or shillelahs, that object was money; +and Mr. Jinks knew that O'Brallaghan would not touch him. + +Therefore Mr. Jinks sent words of defiance and menace after the +retreating individual, and said to the crowd, with dignified calmness: + +"My friends, I call you to bear witness that I have offered to give +this--this--person," said Mr. Jinks, "the amplest satisfaction in my +power for the unfortunate conduct of my animal, which I have just +purchased at a large sum, and have not exactly learned to manage yet. +We have not come to understand each other--myself and Fodder--just +yet; and in passing with a young man whom I kindly permitted to mount +behind me, the animal ran into the shop of this--individual. If he +wants satisfaction!" continued Mr. Jinks, frowning, and laying his +hand upon his sword, "he can have it, sir! yes, sir! I am ready, +sir!--now and always, sir!" + +These words were ostensibly addressed to Mr. O'Brallaghan, who was, +in contempt of Mr. Jinks, busily engaged at his work again; but, in +reality, the whole harangue of Mr. Jinks was intended for the ears of +a person in the crowd, who, holding a hot "iron" in her hand, had run +up, like the rest, when the occurrence first took place. + +This person, who was of the opposite sex, and upon whom Mr. Jinks +evidently desired to produce an impression, gazed at the cavalier with +tender melancholy in her ruddy face, and especially regarded the legs +of Mr. Jinks with unconcealed admiration. + +It was Mistress O'Calligan, the handsome ruddy lady, whom we have +met with once before, on that day when Mr. Jinks, remembering +O'Brallaghan's incapacity to fight, challenged that gentleman to +mortal combat. + +Between this lady and Mr. Jinks, on the present occasion, glances +passed more than once; and when--O'Brallaghan not appearing--Mr. Jinks +rode away from the shop of the dastard, in dignified disgust, he +directed the steps of Fodder, cautiously and gently, around the +corner, and stopped before the door of Mistress O'Calligan's lodging. + +The lamented O'Calligan was gone to that bourne which we all know of, +and his widow now supported herself and the two round, dirty-faced +young gentlemen who had choked themselves in their astonishment +at Ralph, by taking in washing and ironing, to which she added, +occasionally, the occupation and mystery of undergarment construction. + +Thanks to these toils, Mistress O'Calligan, who was yet young and +handsome, and strong and healthy, had amassed a very snug little sum +of money, which she had invested in a garden, numerous pigs, chickens, +and other things; and, in the neighborhood, this lady was regarded +as one destined to thrive in the world; and eventually bring to the +successor of the lamented O'Calligan, not only her fair self, and +good-humored smile included, but also no contemptible portion of this +world's goods. + +O'Brallaghan's ambition was to succeed the lamented. He had long made +unsuccessful court to the lady--in vain. He suspected, not without +justice, that the graceful and military Mr. Jinks had made an +impression on the lady's heart, and hated Mr. Jinks accordingly. + +It was before the low, comfortable cottage of Mistress O'Calligan, +therefore, that Mr. Jinks stopped. And tying Fodder to the pump, he +pushed aside the under-tunics which depended from lines, and were +fluttering in the wind, and so made his entrance into the dwelling. + +Mistress O'Calligan pretended to be greatly surprised and fluttered on +Mr. Jinks' entrance; and laid down the iron she was trying, by putting +her finger in her mouth, and then applying it to the under surface. + +She then smiled; and declared she never was in such a taking; and to +prove this, sat down and panted, and screamed good-humoredly to the +youthful O'Calligans, not to go near that pretty horse; and then asked +Mr. Jinks if he would'nt take something. + +Mr. Jinks said, with great dignity, that he thought he would. + +Thereupon, Mistress O'Calligan produced a flat bottle of poteen, and +pouring a portion for her own fair self, into a cup, said that this +was a wicked world, and handed the flask to Mr. Jinks. + +That gentleman took a tolerably large draught; and then setting down +the bottle, scowled. + +This terrified Mistress O'Calligan; and she said so. + +Mr. Jinks explained that he was angry,--in a towering rage; and added, +that nothing but the presence of Mistress O'Calligan had prevented him +from exterminating O'Brallaghan, who was a wretched creature, beneath +the contempt, etc. + +Whereto the lady replied, Really, to think it; but that these feelings +was wrong; and she were only too happy if her presence had prevented +bloodshed. She thought that Mr. Jinks was flattering her--with more of +the same description. + +Thus commenced this interview, which the loving and flattered Mistress +O'Calligan wrongly supposed to be intended as one of courtship, on the +part of Mr. Jinks. She was greatly mistaken. If ever proceeding +was calm, deliberate, and prompted by revengeful and diabolical +intentions, the proceeding of Mr. Jinks, on the present occasion, was +of that description. + +But none of this appeared upon the countenance of our friend. Mr. +Jinks was himself--he was gallant, impressive; and warming with the +rum, entered into details of his private feelings. + +He had ever admired and venerated--he said--the character of the +beautiful and fascinating Judith O'Calligan, who had alone, and by her +unassisted merits, removed from his character that tendency toward +contempt and undervaluation of women, which, he was mortified to say, +he had been induced to feel from an early disappointment in love. + +Mistress O'Calligan here looked very much flurried, and ejaculated, +Lor! + +Mr. Jinks proceeded to say, that the lady need not feel any concern +for him now; that the early disappointment spoken of, had, it was +true, cast a shadow on his life, which, he imagined, nothing but the +gory blood of his successful rival could remove; that still he, Mr. +Jinks, had had the rare, good fortune of meeting with a divine charmer +who caused him to forget his past sorrows, and again indulge in hopes +of domestic felicity and paternal happiness by the larean altars of +a happy home. That the visions of romance had never pictured such a +person; that the lady whom he spoke of, was well known to the lady +whom he addressed; and, indeed, to be more explicit, was not ten +thousand miles from them at the moment in question. + +This was so very broad, that the "lady" in question blushed the color +of the red bricks in her fire-place, and declared that Mr. Jinks was +the dreadfulest creature, and he need'nt expect to persuade her that +he liked her--no, he need'nt. + +Mr. Jinks repelled the accusation of being a dreadful creature, and +said, that however terrifying his name might be to his enemies among +the men, that no woman had ever yet had cause to be afraid of him, or +to complain of him. + +After which, Mr. Jinks frowned, and took a gulp of the poteen. + +Mistress O'Calligan thought that Mr. Jinks was very wrong to be +talking in such a meaning way to her--and the lamented O'Calligan not +dead two years. That she knew what it was to bestow her affections on +an object, which object did not return them--and never, never could be +brought to trust the future of those blessed dears a-playing on the +side-walk to a gay deceiver. + +After which observation, Mistress O'Calligan took up a corner of +her apron, and made a feint to cry; but not being encouraged by any +consternation, agitation, or objection of any description on the part +of her companion, changed her mind, and smiled. + +Mr. Jinks said that if the paragon of her sex, the lovely Judith, +meant to say that he was a gay deceiver, the assertion in question +involved a mistake of a cruel and opprobrious character. So far from +being a deceiver, he had himself been uniformly deceived; and that in +the present instance, it was much more probable that he would suffer, +because the lovely charmer before him cared nothing for him. + +Which accusation threw the lovely charmer into a flutter, and caused +her to deny the truth of Mr. Jinks' charge; and in addition, to assert +that there existed no proof of the fact that she did'nt care much more +for Mr. Jinks than he did for her--and whether he said she did'nt, or +did'nt say she did'nt, still that this did'nt change the fact: and so +he was mistaken. + +Whereupon Mr. Jinks, imbibing more poteen, replied that assertions, +though in themselves worthy of high respect when they issued from so +lovely and fascinating a source, could still not stand in opposition +to facts. + +Mistress O'Calligan asked what facts. + +Which caused Mr. Jinks to explain. He meant, that the test of +affection was doing one a service; that the loving individual would +perform what the beloved wished; and that here the beautiful Judith +was deficient. + +To which the beautiful Judith, with a preparatory caution to the young +O'Calligans, replied by saying, that she had never been tried; and if +that was all the foundation for such a charge, the best way to prove +its falseness was to immediately test her friendship. + +At this Mr. Jinks brightened up, and leaning over toward the +ruddy-faced Judith, whispered for some minutes. The whispers brought +to the lady's face a variety of expressions: consternation, alarm, +doubt, objection, refusal. Refusal remained paramount. + +Mr. Jinks imbibed more poteen, and observed, with dignity, that he had +been perfectly well aware, before making his communication, that the +protestations of the lady opposite to whom he sat were like those +of ladies in general, calculated to mislead and deceive. He would +therefore not annoy her further, but seek some other-- + +Incipient tears from the lady, who thought Mr. Jinks cruel, +unreasonable, and too bad. + +Mr. Jinks was rational, and had asked a very inconsiderable favor; his +beautiful acquaintance, Miss Sallianna, would not hesitate a moment +to oblige him, and he would therefore respectfully take his +departure--for some time, he was afraid, if not forever. + +Mr. Jinks had played his game with much skill, and great knowledge of +the lady whom he addressed. He brought out his trump, so to speak, +when he mentioned Miss Sallianna, and alluded to his intention never +to return, perhaps. + +The lady could not resist. The moment had arrived when she was to +decide whether she should supply the youthful O'Calligans with a noble +father and protector, or suffer them still to inhabit the dangerous +side-walk in infant helplessness, and exposed to every enemy. + +Therefore the fair Mistress O'Calligan found her resolution +evaporate--her objections removed--she consented to comply with Mr. +Jinks' request, because the object of her affections made it--yes, the +object of her affections for many a long day, through every accusation +of cabbaged cloth, and other things brought by his enemies--the +object of her ambition, the destined recipient of the garden, and the +chickens, and the pigs, when fate removed her! + +And having uttered this speech with great agitation, and numerous +gasps, Mistress O'Calligan yielded to her nerves, and reposed upon Mr. +Jinks' breast. + +Fifteen minutes afterwards Mr. Jinks was going back to Bousch's +tavern, mounted on Fodder, and grimacing. + +"She'll do it, sir! she'll do it!" said Mr. Jinks; "we'll see. Look +out for gory blood, sir!" + +And that was all. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + +TAKES VERTY TO MR. ROUNDJACKET. + + +As Mr. Jinks went along, thus absorbed in his dreams of vengeance, he +chanced to raise his head; which movement made him aware of the fact +that a gentleman with whom he was well acquainted rode in the same +direction with himself--that is to say, toward Bousch's tavern. + +This was Verty, who, absorbed as completely by his own thoughts as was +Mr. Jinks, did not see that gentleman until Cloud very nearly walked +over the diminutive Fodder. + +Mr. Jinks laid his hand on his sword, and frowned; for it was one of +the maxims of this great militaire, that one is never more apt to +escape an attack than when he appears to hold himself in readiness, +and seems prepared for either event. + +Verty did not consider himself bound, however, to engage in a combat +at the moment; and so with grave politeness, bowed and passed on his +way. + +They arrived at the tavern nearly at the same moment. + +Ralph was sitting on the porch, inhaling the fresh October air, gazing +at the bright waves of the little stream which sparkled by beneath +the willows; and at times varying these amusements by endeavoring +to smoke from a pipe which had gone out, He looked the picture of +indolent enjoyment. + +Within a few feet of him sat the ruddy, full-faced landlord, as idle +as himself. + +At sight of Mr. Jinks and Verty, Ralph rose, with a smile, and came +toward them. + +"Ah! my dear Jinks," he said, after bowing to Verty familiarly, "how +did you get out of that scrape? I regret that business of a private +and important nature forced me to leave you, and go round the corner. +How did it result?" + +"Triumphantly, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, dismounting, and, with great +dignity, entrusting Fodder to a stable-boy, lounging near; "that +hound, O'Brallaghan, knew his place, sir, and did not presume to +complain--" + +"Of Fodder?" + +"Of anything, sir." + +"The fact is, it would have been ridiculous. What had he to complain +of, I should like to be informed. So he retreated?" + +"He did, sir," said Mr. Jinks, with dignity, "amid the hisses of the +assembled crowd." + +"Just as I suspected; it would take a bold fellow to force such a Don +Quixote and Dapple, as yourself and Fodder!" + +"Yes; although I regretted," said Mr. Jinks, with great dignity, "the +accident which occurred when we set out, I rejoice at having had an +occasion to inform that Irish conspirator and St. Michael-hater, that +I held him in opprobrious contempt." + +And Mr. Jinks glanced at the landlord. + +"He was making the breeches for St. Michael, whom he is to represent," +said Mr. Jinks, "day after to-morrow; and I have not done with +him--the Irish villain!" + +Mr. Jinks looked again, significantly, at the host. + +That gentleman had not lost a word of the conversation, and his sleepy +eyes now opened. He beckoned to Mr. Jinks. A smile illumined the +countenance of the worthy--the landlord was a German;--the plot +against Irish O'Brallaghan was gaining strength. + +The landlord rose, and, with a significant look, entered the house, +followed by Mr. Jinks, who turned his head, as he disappeared, to cast +a triumphant look upon Ralph. + +No sooner had he passed from sight, than Ralph turned to Verty, who +had sat quietly upon Cloud, during this colloquy, and burst into +laughter. + +"That is the greatest character I have ever known, Verty," he said; +"and I have been amusing myself with him all the morning." + +Verty was thinking, and without paying much attention to Ralph, +smiled, and said: + +"Anan?--yes--" + +"I believe you are dreaming." + +"Oh, no--only thinking," said Verty, smiling; "I can't get out of the +habit, and I really don't think I heard you. But I can't stop. Here's +a note Redbud asked me to give you--for Fanny. She said you might be +going up to old Scowley's--" + +"Might be! I rather think I am! Ah, Miss Redbud, you are a mischievous +one. But why take the trouble to say that of the divine sex? They're +all dangerous, scheming and satirical." + +"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, as he tossed Ralph the note. + +"Don't mind me," said Ralph; "I was just talking, as usual, at random, +and slandering the sex. But what are you sitting there for, my dear +Verty? Get down and come in. I'm dying of weariness." + +Verty shook his head. + +"I must go and see Mr. Roundjacket," he said. + +"What! is he sick?" + +"Yes." + +"Much?" + +Verty smiled. + +"I think not," he said; "but I don't know--I havn't much time; +good-bye." + +And touching Cloud with the spur, Verty went on. Ralph looked +after him for a moment, twirled the note in his fingers, read +the superscription,--"To Miss Fanny Temple,"--and then, laughing +carelessly, lounged into the house, intent on making a third in the +councils of those great captains, Mr. Jinks and the landlord. + +We shall accompany Verty, who rode on quietly, and soon issued from +the town--that is to say, the more bustling portion of it; for +Winchester, at that time, consisted of but two streets, and even these +were mere roads, as they approached the suburbs. + +Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees, +on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in +bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have +induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know, +from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent +little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample +"estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing +needful. + +Verty dismounted, and admiring the beautiful sward, the well tended +flowers, and the graceful appendages of the mansion--from the bronze +knocker, with Minerva's head upon it, to the slight and comfortable +wicker smoking-chairs upon the porch--opened the little gate, and +knocked. + +An old negro woman, who superintended, with the assistance of her +equally aged husband, this bachelor paradise, appeared at the door; +and hearing Verty's request of audience, was going to prefer it to Mr. +Roundjacket. + +This was rendered unnecessary, however, by the gentleman himself. He +called from the comfortable sitting-room to Verty, and the visitor +entered. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + +CONTAINS AN EXTRAORDINARY DISCLOSURE. + + +Roundjacket was clad in a handsome dressing-gown, and was heading, or +essaying to read--for he had the rheumatism in his right shoulder--a +roll of manuscript. Beside him lay a ruler, which he grasped, and made +a movement of hospitable reception with, as Verty came in. + +"Welcome, welcome, my young friend," said Roundjacket; "you see me +laid up, sir" + +"You're not much sick, I hope, sir?" said Verty, taking the arm-chair, +which his host indicated. + +"I am, sir--you are mistaken." + +"I am very sorry." + +"I thank you for your sympathy," said Roundjacket, running his fingers +through his straight hair; "I think, sir I mentioned, the other day, +that I expected to be laid up." + +"Mentioned?" + +"On the occasion, sir--" + +"Oh, the paper!" said Verty, smiling; "you don't mean--" + +"I mean everything," said Roundjacket; "I predicted, on that occasion, +that I expected to be laid up, and I am, sir." + +This was adroit in Roundjacket. It was one of those skillful +equivocations, by means of which a man saves his character for +consistency and judgment, without forfeiting his character for truth. + +"Well, it _was_ very bad," said Verty. + +"Bad is not the word--abominable is the word--disgraceful is the +word!" cried Roundjacket, flourishing his ruler, and suddenly dropping +it as a twinge shot through his shoulder. + +"Yes," assented Verty; "but talking about it will make you worse, sir. +Mr. Rushton asked me to come and see how you were this morning." + +"Rushton is thanked," said Mr. Roundjacket,--"Rushton, my young +friend, has his good points--so have I, sir. I nursed him through a +seven month's fever--a perfect bear, sir; but he always is _that_. +Tell him that my arm--that I am nearly well, sir, and that nothing +but my incapacity to write, from--from--the state of my--feelings," +proceeded Roundjacket, "should keep me at home. Observe, my young sir, +that this is no apology. Rushton and myself understand each other. +If I wish to go, I go--or stay away, I stay away. But I like the old +trap, sir, from habit, and rather like the bear himself, upon the +whole." + +With this Mr. Roundjacket attempted to flourish his ruler, from habit, +and groaned. + +"What's the matter, sir?" said Verty. + +"I felt badly at the moment," said Roundjacket; "the fact is, I always +do feel badly when I'm confined thus. I have been trying to wile away +the time with the manuscript of my poem, sir--but it won't do. An +author, sir--mark me--never takes any pleasure in reading his own +writings." + +"Ah?" said Verty. + +"No, sir; the only proper course for authors is to marry." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes: and why, sir?" asked Mr. Roundjacket, evidently with the +intention of answering his own question. + +"I don't know," replied Verty. + +"Because, then, sir, the author may read his work to his wife, which +is a circumstance productive of great pleasure on both sides, you +perceive." + +"It might be, but I think it might'nt, sir?" Verty said. + +"How, might'nt be?" + +"It might be very bad writing--not interesting--such as ought to be +burned, you know," said Verty. + +"Hum!" replied Roundjacket, "there's something in that." + +"If I was to write--but I could'nt--I don't think I would read it to +my wife--if I had a wife," added Verty. + +And he sighed. + +"A wife! you!" cried Mr. Roundjacket. + +"Is there anything wrong in my wishing to marry?" + +"Hum!--yes, sir; there is a certain amount of irrationality in _any_ +body desiring such a thing--not in you especially." + +"Oh, Mr. Roundjacket, you advised me only a few weeks ago to be always +_courting_ somebody--courting was the word; I recollect it." + +"Hum!" repeated Roundjacket; "did I?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, sir, I suppose a man has a right to amend." + +"Anan, sir?" + +"I say that a man has a right to file an amended and supplemental +bill, stating new facts; but you don't understand. Perhaps, sir, I was +right, and perhaps I was wrong in that advice." + +"But, Mr. Roundjacket," said Verty, sighing, "do you think I ought not +to marry because I am an Indian?" + +This question of ethics evidently puzzled the poet. + +"An Indian--hum--an Indian?" he said; "but are you an Indian, my young +friend?" + +"You know _ma mere_ is, and I am her son." + +Roundjacket shook his head. + +"You are a Saxon, not an Aboriginal," he said; "and to tell you the +truth, your origin has been the great puzzle of my life, sir." + +"Has it?" + +"It has, indeed." + +Verty looked thoughtful, and his dreamy gaze was fixed upon vacancy. + +"It has troubled me a good deal lately," he said, "and I have been +thinking about it very often--since I came to live in Winchester, you +know. As long as I was in the woods, it did not come into my thoughts +much; the deer, and turkeys, and bears never asked," added Verty, with +a smile. "The travellers who stopped for a draught of water or a slice +of venison at _ma mere's_, never seemed to think anything about it, +or to like me the worse for not knowing where I came from. It's only +since I came into society here, sir, that I am troubled. It troubles +me very much," added Verty, his head drooping. + +"Zounds!" cried Roundjacket, betrayed by his feelings into an oath, +"don't let it, Verty! You're a fine, honest fellow, whether you're an +Indian or not; and if I had a daughter--which," added Mr. Roundjacket, +"I'm glad to say I have not--you should have her for the asking. Who +cares! you're a gentleman, every inch of you!" + +"Am I?" said Verty; "I'm glad to hear that. I thought I was'nt. And +so, sir, you don't think there's any objection to my marrying?" + +"Hum!--the subject of marrying again!" + +"Yes, sir," Verty replied, smiling; "I thought I'd marry Redbud." + +"Who? that little Redbud!" + +"Yes, sir," said Verty, "I think I'm in love with her." + +Roundjacket stood amazed at such extraordinary simplicity. + +"Sir," he said, "whether you are an Indian by blood or not, you +certainly are by nature. Extraordinary! who ever heard of a civilized +individual using such language!" + +"But you know I am not civilized, sir." + +Roundjacket shook his head. + +"There's the objection," he said; "it is absolutely necessary that a +man who becomes the husband of a young lady should be civilized. But +let us dismiss this subject--Redbud! Excuse me, Mr. Verty, but you are +a very extraordinary young man;--to have you for--well, well. Don't +allude to that again." + +"To what, sir?" + +"To Redbud." + +"Why, sir?" + +"Because I have nothing to do with it. I can only give you my general +ideas on the subject of marriage. If you apply them, that is your +affair. A pretty thing on an oath of discovery," murmured the poetical +lawyer. + +Verty had not heard the last words; he was reflecting. Roundjacket +watched him with a strange, wistful look, which had much kindness and +feeling in it. + +"But why not marry?" said Verty, at last; "it seems to me sir, that +people ought to marry; I think I could find a great many good reasons +for it." + +"Could you; how many?" + +"A hundred, I suppose." + +"And I could find a thousand against it," said Roundjacket. "Mark +me, sir--except under certain circumstances, a man is not the same +individual after marrying--he deteriorates." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"I mean, that in most cases it is for the worse--the change of +condition. + +"How, sir?" + +"Observe the married man," replied Roundjacket, philosophically--"see +his brow laden with cares, his important look, his solemn deportment. +None of the lightness and carelessness of the bachelor." + +Verty nodded, as much as to say that there was a great deal of truth +in this much. + +"Then observe the glance," continued Roundjacket, "if I may be +permitted to use a colloquialism which is coming into use--there +is not that brilliant cut of the eye, which you see in us young +fellows--it is all gone, sir!" + +Verty smiled. + +"The married man frequently delegates his soul to his better half," +continued Roundjacket, rising with his subject; "all his independence +is gone. He can't live the life of a jolly bachelor, with pipe and +slippers, jovial friends and nocturnal suppers. The pipe is put out, +sir--the slippers run down--and the joyous laughter of his good +companions becomes only the recollection of dead merriment. He +progresses, sir--does the married man--from bad to worse; he lives in +a state of hen-pecked, snubbed, unnatural apprehension; he shrinks +from his shadow; trembles at every sound; and, in the majority of +cases, ends his miserable existence, sir, by hanging himself to the +bed-post!" + +Having drawn this awful picture of the perils of matrimony, Mr. +Roundjacket paused and smiled. Verty looked puzzled. + +"You seem to think it is very dreadful," said Verty; "are you afraid +of women, sir?" + + +"No, I am not, sir! But I might very rationally be." + +"Anan?" + +"Yes, sir, very reasonably; the fact is, you cannot be a lady's man, +and have any friends, without being talked about." + +Verty nodded, with a simple look, which struck Mr. Roundjacket +forcibly. + +"Only utter a polite speech, and smile, and wrap a lady's shawl around +her shoulders--flirt her fan, or caress her poodle--and, in public +estimation, you are gone," observed the poet; "the community +roll their eyes, shake their heads, and declare that it is very +obvious--that you are so far gone, as not even to pretend to conceal +it. Shocking, sir!" + +And Roundjacket chuckled. + +"It's very wrong," said Verty, shaking his head; "I wonder they do +it." + +"Therefore, keep away from the ladies, my young friend," added +Roundjacket, with an elderly air--"that is the safest way. Get some +snug bachelor retreat like this, and be happy with your pipe. Imitate +me, in dressing-gown and slippers. So shall you be happy!" + +Roundjacket chuckled again, and contemplated the cornice. + +At the same moment a carriage was heard to stop before the door, and +the poet's eyes descended. + +"I wonder who comes to see me," he said, "really now, in a chariot." + +Verty, from his position, could see through the window. + +"Why, it's the Apple Orchard chariot!" he said, "and there is Miss +Lavinia!" + +At this announcement, Mr. Roundjacket's face assumed an expression of +dastardly guilt, and he avoided Verty's eye. + +"Lavinia!" he murmured. + +At the same moment a diminutive footman gave a rousing stroke with the +knocker, and delivered into the hands of the old woman, who opened the +door, a glass dish of delicacies such as are affected by sick persons. + +With this came a message from the lady in the carriage, to the effect, +that her respects were presented to Mr. Roundjacket, whose sickness +she had heard of. Would he like the jelly?--she was passing--would be +every day. Please to send word if he was better. + +While this message was being delivered, Roundjacket resembled an +individual caught in the act of felonious appropriation of his +neighbors' ewes. He did not look at Verty, but, with; a bad assumption +of nonchalance, bade the boy thank his mistress, and say that Mr. +Roundjacket would present his respects, in person, at Apple Orchard, +on the morrow. Would she excuse his not coming out? + +This message was carried to the chariot, which soon afterwards drove +away. + +Verty gazed after it. + +"I say, Mr. Roundjacket," he observed, at length, "how funny it is for +Miss Lavinia to come to see you!" + +"Hum!--hum!--we are--hum--ah--! The fact is, my dear Verty!" cried Mr. +Roundjacket, rising, and limping through a _pas seul_, in spite of his +rheumatism--"the fact is, I have been acting the most miserable and +deceptive way to you for the last hour. Yes, my dear boy! I am ashamed +of myself! Carried away by the pride of opinion, and that fondness +which bachelor's have for boasting, I have been deceiving you! But +it never shall be said that Robert Roundjacket refused the amplest +reparation. My reparation, my good Verty, is taking you into my +confidence. The fact is--yes, the fact really is--as aforesaid, or +rather as _not_ aforesaid, myself and the pleasing Miss Lavinia are to +be married before very long! Don't reply, sir! I know my guilt--but +you might have known I was jesting. You must have suspected, from my +frequent visits to Apple Orchard--hum--hum--well, well, sir; it's out +now, and I've made a clean breast of it, and you're not to speak of +it! I am tired of bachelordom, sir, and am going to change!" + +With these words, Mr. Roundjacket executed a pirouette upon his +rheumatic leg, which caused him to fall back in his chair, making the +most extraordinary faces, which we can compare to nothing but the +contortions of a child who bites a crab-apple by mistake. + +The twinge soon spent its force, however; and then Mr. Roundjacket and +Verty resumed their colloquy--after which, Verty rose and took his +leave, smiling and laughing to himself, at times. + +He had reason. Miss Lavinia, who had denounced wife-hunters, was +about to espouse Mr. Roundjacket, who had declared matrimony the most +miserable of mortal conditions; all which is calculated to raise our +opinion of the consistency of human nature in a most wonderful degree. + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +HOW MR. RUSHTON PROVED THAT ALL MEN WERE SELFISH, HIMSELF INCLUDED. + + +Leaving Mr. Roundjacket contemplating the ceiling, and reflecting upon +the various questions connected with bachelorship and matrimony, Verty +returned to the office, and reported to Mr. Rushton that the poet was +rapidly improving, and would probably be at his post on the morrow. + +This intelligence was received with a growl, which had become, +however, so familiar an expression of feeling to the young man, that +he did not regard it. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Rushton, "what news is there about town?" + +"News, sir? I heard none." + +"Did'nt you pass along the streets?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you met nobody?" + +"Oh, yes; I met Ralph, and Mr. Jinks, and others." + +"Jinks! I'll score that Jinks yet!" said Mr. Rushton; "he is an +impertinent jackanapes, and deserves to be put in the stocks." + +"I don't like him much," said Verty, smiling, "I think he is very +foolish." + +"Hum! I have no doubt of it: he had the audacity to come here once and +ask an _opinion_ of me without offering the least fee." + +"An opinion, sir?" + +"Yes, sir; have you been thus long in the profession, or in contact +with the profession," added Mr. Rushton, correcting himself, "without +learning what an _opinion_ is?" + +"Oh, sir--I think I understand now--it is--" + +"A very gratifying circumstance that you do," said Mr. Rushton, with +the air of a good-natured grizzly bear. "Well, sir, that fellow, I +say, had the audacity to consult me upon a legal point--whether the +tailor O'Brallaghan, being bound over to keep the peace, could attack +him without forfeiting his recognizances--that villain Jinks, I say, +had the outrageous audacity to ask my opinion on this point, and then +when I gave it, to rise and say that it was a fine morning, and so +strut out, without another word. A villain, sir! the man who consults +a lawyer without the preparatory retainer, is a wretch too deep-dyed +to reform!" + +Having thus disposed of Jinks, Mr. Rushton snorted. + +"I don't like him," Verty said, "he does not seem to be sincere, and I +think he is not a gentleman. But, I forget, sir; you asked me if there +was any news. I _did_ hear some people talking at the corners of the +street as I passed. + +"About what?" + +"The turn out of the Dutch and Irish people the day after tomorrow, +sir." + +"Hum!" growled Mr. Rushton, "we'll see about that! The authorities of +Winchester are performing their duty after a pretty fashion, truly--to +permit these villainous plots to be hatched tinder their very noses. +What did you hear, sir?" + +"They were whispering almost, sir, and if I had'nt been a hunter I +could'nt have heard. They were saying that there would be knives as +well as shillalies," said Verty. + +"Hum! indeed! This must be looked to! Will we! The wretches. We are in +a fine way when the public peace is to be sacrificed to the whim of +some outlandish wretches." + +"Anan?" said Verty. + +"Sir?" asked Mr. Rushton. + +"I do not know exactly what _outlandish_ means," Verty replied, with a +smile. + +A grim smile came to the lips of the lawyer also. + +"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some +people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish." + +"Me!" said Verty. + +"Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?" + +"My clothes, sir--from the tailor's?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Verty shook his head. + +"I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an +Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me." + +Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence. + +"You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You +came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am +permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin, +which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have +labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched +life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces." + +"Don't you like law, sir?" + +"No--I hate it." + +"Why, sir?" + +"'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying +questions! I hate it because it lowers still more my opinion of this +miserable humanity. I see everywhere rascality, and fraud, and lies; +and because there is danger of becoming the color of the stuff I work +in, 'like the dyer's hand.' I hate it," growled Mr. Rushton. + +"But you must see many noble things, sir, too,--a great deal of +goodness, you know." + +"Well, sir, so I do. I don't deny it. There are _some_ men who are not +entirely corrupt,--some who do not cheat systematically, and lie by +the compass and the rule. But these are the exceptions. This life and +humanity are foul sin from the beginning. Trust no one, young man--not +even me; I may turn out a rogue. I am no better than the rest of the +wretches!" + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"There you are with your exclamations!" + +"Oh, I'm sure, sir--" + +"Be sure of nothing; let us end this jabber. How is your mother?" said +Mr. Rushton, abruptly. + +"She's very well, sir." + +"A good woman." + +"Oh, indeed she is, sir--I love her dearly." + +"Hum! there's no harm in that, though much selfishness, I do not +doubt--all humanity is narrow and selfish. There are some things I +procured for her." + +And Mr. Rushton pointed to a large bundle lying on the chair. + +"For _ma mere_!" said Verty. + +"Yes; I suppose that, in your outlandish lingo, means _mother_. Yes, +for her; the winter is coming on, and she will need something warm to +wrap her--poor creature--from the cold." + +"Oh, how kind you are, Mr. Rushton!" + +"Nonsense; I suppose I am at liberty to spend my own money." + +Verty looked at the lawyer with a grateful smile, and said: + +"I don't think that what you said about everybody's being selfish and +bad is true, sir. You are very good and kind." + +"Flummery!" observed the cynic, "I had a selfish motive: I wished to +appear generous--I wished to be praised--I wished to attach you to my +service, in order to employ you, when the time came, in some rascally +scheme." + +"Oh, Mr. Rushton!" + +"Yes, sir; you know not why I present that winter wardrobe to your +mother," said the lawyer, triumphantly; "you don't even know that it +is my present!" + +"How, sir?" + +"May I not stop it from your salary, I should like to know, sir?" + +And Mr. Rushton scowled at Verty. + +"Oh!" said the young man. + +"I may do anything--I may have laid a plot to have you arrested for +receiving stolen goods," said the shaggy cynic, revelling in the +creations of his invention; "I may have wrapped up an infernal +machine, sir, in that bundle, which, when you open it, will explode +like a cannon, and carry ruin and destruction to everything around!" + +This terrific picture caused Verty to open his eyes, and look with +astonishment at his interlocutor. + +"I may have bought them in to spite that young villain at the store. I +heard him," said Mr. Rushton, vindictively--"yes, distinctly heard +him whisper, 'There's old Rushton again, come to growl, and not buy +anything.' The villain! but I disappointed him; and when he said, +"Shall they be sent to your office, sir?" in his odious obsequious +voice, I replied, 'No, sir! I am not a dandy or fine gentleman, nor +a woman;--you, sir, may be accustomed to have your bundles _sent_--I +carry mine myself.' And so, sir, I took the bundle on my shoulder and +brought it away, to the astonishment of that young villain, who, I +predict, will eventually come to the gallows!" + +And the lawyer, having grown tired of talking, abruptly went into his +sanctum, and slammed the door. + +Verty gazed after him for some moments with a puzzled expression--then +smiled--then shook his head; then glanced at the bundle. It was heavy +enough for two porters, and Verty opened his eyes at the thought of +Mr. Rushton's having appeared in public, in the town of Winchester, +with such a mass upon his back. + +"He's very good, though," said Verty; "I don't know why he's so kind +to me. How _ma mere_ will like them--I know they are what she wants." + +And Verty betook himself to his work, only stopping to partake of his +dinner of cold venison and biscuits. By the afternoon, he had done a +very good task; and then mounting Cloud, with the bundle before him, +he took his way homeward, _via_ Apple Orchard. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +THE PORTRAIT SMILES. + + +Our fine Virginia autumn not only dowers the world with beautiful +forests, and fresh breezes, and a thousand lovely aspects of the +beautiful world--fine golden sunsets, musical dawns, and gorgeous +noontides full of languid glory;--it also has its direct influence on +the mind. + +Would you dream? Go to the autumn woods; the life there is one golden +round of fancies, such as come alone beneath waning forests, where +the glories of the flower-crowned summer have yielded to a spell more +powerful, objects more enthralling--because those objects have the +charm of a maiden slowly passing, with a loveliness a thousand times +increased, and sublimated, to the holy skies. + +Would you have active life? That is there too--the deer, and sound +of bugles rattling through the trees, and rousing echoes which go +flashing through the hills, and filling the whole universe with +jubilant laughter. Every mood has something offered for its +entertainment in the grand autumns of our Blue-Ridge dominated land: +chiefly the thoughtful, however, the serene and happy. + +You dream there, under the boughs all gold, and blue, and crimson. +Little things which obscured the eternal landscape, pass away, and the +great stars, above the world, come out and flood the mind with a far +other light than that which flowed from earthly tapers and rushlights. +The heart is purer for such hours of thought; and as the splendid +autumn marches on with pensive smiles, you see a glory in his waning +cheek which neither the tender Spring, nor the rich, glittering Summer +ever approached--an expression of hope and resignation which is +greater than strength and victory. Ah, me! if we could always look, +like autumn, on the coming storms and freezing snows, and see the +light and warmth beyond the veil! + +Verty went on beneath the autumn skies, and through the woods, the +rustle of whose leaves was music to his forest-trained ear; and so +arrived at Apple Orchard as the sun was setting brightly behind the +pines, which he kindled gloriously. + +Redbud was seated at the window; and the kind eyes and lips +brightened, as the form of the young man became visible. + +Verty dismounted and entered. + +"I am very glad to see you!" said Redbud, smiling, and holding out her +small hand; "what a sweet evening for your ride home." + +Redbud was clad with her usual grace and simplicity. Her beautiful +golden hair was brushed back from the pure, white forehead; her throat +was enveloped in a circlet of diaphanous lace, and beneath this, as +she breathed, the red beads of the coral necklace were visible, rising +and falling with the pulsations of her heart. Redbud could not have +very readily explained the reason for her fancy in wearing the +necklace constantly. It was one of those caprices which every one +experiences at times;--and so, although the girl had quite a magazine +of such ornaments, she persisted in wearing the old necklace bought +from the pedlar. Perhaps the word Providence may explain the matter. + +To the girl's observation, that he had a fine evening for his ride +homeward, Verty replied--Yes, that he had; that he could not go by, +however, without coming to see her. + +And as he uttered these words, the simple and tender glances of the +two young persons encountered each other; and they both smiled. + +"You know you are not very well," added Verty; "and I could'nt sleep +well if I did not know how you were, Redbud." + +The girl thanked him with another smile, and said: + +"I believe I am nearly well now; the cold I caught the other day has +entirely left me. I almost think I might take a stroll, if the sun was +not so low." + +"It is half an hour high--that is, it will not get cool until then," +Verty said. + +"Do you think I would catch cold?" asked the girl, smiling. + +"I don't know," Verty said. + +"Well, I do not think I will, and you shall wrap me in your coat, if I +do," she said, laughing. + +In ten minutes, Redbud and Verty were strolling through the grove, and +admiring the sunset. + +"How pretty it is," she said, gazing with pensive pleasure on the +clouds; "and the old grove here is so still." + +"Yes," Verty said, "I like the old grove very much. Do you see that +locust? It was just at the foot of it, that we found the hare's form, +when Dick mowed the grass. You recollect?" + +"Oh, yes," Redbud replied; "and I remember what dear little creatures +they were--not bigger than an apple, and with such frightened eyes. +We put them back, you know, Verty--that is, I made you," she added, +laughing. + +Verty laughed too. + +"They were funny little creatures," he said; "and they would have +died--you know we never could have got the right things for them to +eat--yes! there, in the long grass! How Molly Cotton jumped away." + +They walked on. + +"Here, by the filbert bush, we used to bury the apples to get mellow," +Verty said; "nice, yellow, soft things they were, when we dug them +up, with a smell of the earth about 'em! They were not like the June +apples we used to get in the garden, where they dropped among the +corn--their striped, red sides all covered with dust!" + +"I liked the June apples the best," Redbud said, "but I think October +is finer than June." + +"Oh, yes. Redbud, I am going to get some filberts--will you have +some?" + +"If you please." + +So Verty went to the bushes, and brought his hat full of them, and +cracked them on a stone--the sun lighting up his long, tangled curls, +and making brighter his bright smile. + +Redbud stooped down, and gathered the kernels as they jumped from the +shell, laughing and happy. + +They had returned to their childhood again--bright and tender +childhood, which dowers our after life with so many tender, mournful, +happy memorials;--whose breezes fan our weary brows so often as we go +on over the thorny path, once a path of flowers. They were once +more children, and they wandered thus through the beautiful forest, +collecting their memories, laughing here, sighing there--and giving an +association or a word to every feature of the little landscape. + +"How many things I remember," Verty said, thoughtfully, and smiling; +"there, where Milo, the good dog, was buried, and a shot fired over +him--there, where we treed the squirrel--and over yonder, by the run, +which I used to think flowed by from fairy land--I remember so many +things!" + +"Yes--I do too," replied the girl, thoughtfully, bending her head. + +"How singular it is that an Indian boy like me should have been +brought up here," Verty said, buried in thought; "I think my life is +stranger than what they call a romance." + +Redbud made no reply. + +"_Ma mere_ would never tell me anything about myself," the young man +went on, wistfully, "and I can't know anything except from her. I must +be a Dacotah or a Delaware." + +Redbud remained thoughtful for some moments, then raising her head, +said: + +"I do not believe you are an Indian, Verty. There is some mystery +about you which I think the old Indian woman should tell. She +certainly is not your mother," said Redbud, with a little smiling air +of dogmatism. + +"I don't know," Verty replied, "but I wish I did know. I used to be +proud of being an Indian, but since I have grown up, and read how +wicked they were, I wish I was not. + +"You are not." + +"Well, I think so, too," he replied; "I am not a bit like _ma mere_, +who has long, straight black hair, and a face the color of that +maple--dear _ma mere_!--while I have light hair, always getting rolled +up. My face is different, too--I mean the color--I am sun-burned, but +I remember when my face was very white." + +And Verty smiled. + +"I would ask her all about it," Redbud said. + +"I think I will," was the reply; "but she don't seem to like it, +Redbud--it seems to worry her." + +"But it is important to you, Verty." + +"Yes, indeed it is." + +"Ask her this evening." + +"Do you advise me?" + +"Yes. I think you ought to; indeed I do." + +"Well, I will," Verty said; "and I know when _ma mere_ understands +that I am not happy as long as she does not tell me everything, she +will speak to me." + +"I think so, too," said Redbud; "and now, Verty, there is one thing +more--trust in God, you know, is everything. He will do all for the +best." + +"Oh, yes," the young man said, as they turned toward Apple Orchard +house again, "I am getting to do that--and I pray now, Redbud," he +added, looking toward the sky, "I pray to the Great Spirit, as we call +him--" + +Redbud looked greatly delighted, and said: + +"That is better than all; I do not see how any one can live without +praying." + +"I used to," Verty replied. + +"It was so wrong." + +"Yes, yes." + +"And Verty gazed at the sunset with his dreamy, yet kindling eyes. + +"If there is a Great Spirit, we ought to talk to him," he said, "and +tell him what we want, and ask him to make us good; I think so at +least--" + +"Indeed we should." + +"Then," continued Verty, "if that is true, we ought to think whether +there is or is not such a spirit. There may be people in towns +who don't believe there is--but I am obliged to. Look at the sun, +Redbud--the beautiful sun going away like a great torch dying +out;--and look at the clouds, as red as if a thousand deer had come to +their death, and poured their blood out in a river! Look at the woods +here, every color of the bow in the cloud, and the streams, and rocks, +and all! There must be a Great Spirit who loves men, or he never would +have made the world so beautiful." + +Verty paused, and they went on slowly. + +"We love him because he first loved us," said Redbud, thoughtfully. + +"Yes, and what a love it must have been. Oh me!" said the young man, +"I sometimes think of it until my heart is melted to water, and my +eyes begin to feel heavy. What love it was!--and if we do not love in +return, what punishment is great enough for such a crime!" + +And Verty's face was raised with a dreamy, reverent look toward the +sky. Youth, manhood, age--if they but thought of it!--but youth is a +dream--manhood the waking--age the return to slumber. Busy, arranging +the drapery of their couches, whether of royal purple or of beggar's +rags, they cannot find the time to think of other things--even to +listen to the grim breakers, with their awful voices roaring on the +lee! + +So, under the autumn skies, the young man and the maiden drew near +home. Apple Orchard smiled on them as they came, and the bluff Squire, +seated upon the portico, and reading that "Virginia Gazette" maligned +by Roundjacket, gave them welcome with a hearty, laughing greeting. + +The Squire declared that Redbud's cheeks were beginning to be +tolerably red again; that she had been pretending sickness only--and +then, with a vituperative epithet addressed to Caesar, the old +gentleman re-commenced reading. + +Redbud and Verty entered; and then the young man held out his hand. + +"Are you going?" said the girl. + +"Yes," he said, smiling, "unless you will sing me something. Oh, yes! +let me go away with music in my ears. Sing '_Dulce Domum_' for me, +Redbud." + +The young girl assented, with a smile; and sitting down at the +harpsichord, sang the fine old ditty in her soft, tender voice, which +was the very echo of joy and kindness. The gentle carol floated on +the evening air, and seemed to make the autumn twilight brighter, +everything more lovely--and Verty listened with a look more dreamy +than before. + +Then, as she sung, his eye was turned to the picture on the wall, +which looked down with its loving eyes upon them. + +Redbud ceased, and turned and saw the object of his regard. + +"Mamma," she said, in a low, thoughtful voice,--"I love to think of +her." + +And rising, she stood beside Verty, who was still looking at the +portrait. + +"She must have been very good," he murmured; "I think her face is full +of kindness." + +Redbud gazed softly at the portrait, and, as she mused, the dews of +love and memory suffused her tender eyes, and she turned away. + +"I love the face," said Verty, softly; "and I think she must have been +a kind, good mother, Redbud. I thought just now that she was listening +to you as you sang." + +And Verty gazed at the young girl, with a tenderness which filled her +eyes with delight. + +"She will bless you out of Heaven," he continued, timidly; "for you +are so beautiful and good--so very beautiful!" + +And a slight tremor passed over the young man's frame as he spoke. + +Redbud did not reply; a deep blush suffused her face, and she murmured +something. Then the young head drooped, and the face turned away. + +The last ray of sunlight gleamed upon her hair and pure white +forehead, and then fled away--the day was ended. + +Verty saw it, and held out his hand. + +"We have had a happy evening, at least I have," he said, in a low +voice; "the autumn is so beautiful, and you are so kind and good." + +She did not speak; but a faint wistful smile came to her lips as she +placed her hand softly in his own. + +"Look! the picture is smiling on you now!" said Verty; "you are just +alike--both so beautiful!" + +"Oh!" murmured Redbud, blushing; "like mamma?" + +"Yes," said Verty, "and I saw the lips smile when I spoke." + +They stood thus hand in hand--the tender mother-eyes upon them: then +he turned and went away, looking back tenderly to the last. + +Had the dim canvas smiled upon them, as they stood there hand in +hand--a blessing on them from the far other world? + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +THE LODGE IN THE HILLS. + + +Sitting by the crackling twigs which drove away the cool airs of the +autumn night with their inspiring warmth, the young man, whose early +fortunes we have thus far endeavored to narrate, leaned his head upon +his hand, and mused and dreamed. + +Overhead the shadows played upon the rafters; around him, the +firelight lit up the wild and uncouth interior, with its sleeping +hounds, and guns, and fishing-rods, and chests; on the opposite side +of the fire-place, the old Indian woman was indulging, like Verty, in +a reverie. + +From time to time, Longears or Wolf would stir in their sleep, and +growl, engaged in dreaming of some forest adventure which concerned +itself with deer or other game; or the far cry of the whip-poor-will +would echo through the forest; or the laughter of the owl suddenly +come floating on, borne on the chill autumn wind. + +This, with the crackle of the twigs, was all which disturbed the +silence of the solitary lodge. + +The silence lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time Verty +changed his position, and sighed. Then looking at the old woman with +great affection, the young man said: + +"I was thinking who I was; and I wanted to ask you, _ma mere_--tell +me." + +The old woman looked startled at this address, but concealing her +emotion with the marvellous skill of her people, replied in her +guttural accent-- + +"My son wants to know something?" + +"Yes, _ma mere_, that is it. I want to know if I really am your son." + +The old woman turned her eyes from Verty. + +"The fawn knows the deer, and the bear's cub knows his fellows," +continued Verty, gazing into the fire; "but they laugh at me. I don't +know my tribe." + +"Our tribe is the Delaware," said the old Indian woman evasively--" +they came from the great woods like a river." + +"Like a river? Yes, they know their source. But where did I spring +from, _ma mere_?" + +"Where was my son born?" + +"Yes, tell me everything," said Verty; "tell me if I am your son. +Do not tell me that you love me as a son, or that I love you as my +mother. I know that--but am I a Delaware?" + +"Why does my son ask?" + +"Because a bird of the air whispered to me--'You are not a Delaware, +nor a Tuscarora, nor a Dacotah; you are a pale face.' Did the bird +lie!" + +The old woman did not answer. + +"_Ma mere_," said Verty, tenderly taking the old woman's hand and +sitting at her feet, "the Great Spirit has made me honest and open--I +cannot conceal anything. I cannot pry and search. I might find out +this from some other person--who knows? But I will not try. Come! +speak with a straight tongue. Am I the son of a brave; am I a +Delaware; or am I what my face makes me out--a Long-knife?" + +"Ough! ough! ough!" groaned the old woman; "he wants to go, away from +the nest where he was warmed, and nursed, and brought up. The Great +Spirit has put evil into his heart--it is cold." + +"No, no," said Verty, earnestly--"my heart is red, not white; every +drop of my life-blood is yours, _ma mere_; you have loved me, +cherished me: when my muscles were soft and hot with fever, you laid +my head upon your bosom, and rocked me to sleep as softly as the +topmost bough of the oak rocks the oriole; you loved me always. My +heart shall run out of my breast and soak the ground, before it turns +white; yet, I love you, and you love me. But, _ma mere_, I have grown +well nigh to manhood; the bird's song is changed, and the dove has +flown to me--the dove yonder at Apple Orchard--" + +"Ough!" groaned the old woman, rocking to and fro; "she is black! She +has made you bad!" + +"No, no! she is white--she is good. She told me about the Great +Spirit, and makes me pure." + +"Ough! ough!" + +"She is as pure as the bow in the cloud," continued Verty; "and I +did not mean that the dove was the bird who whispered, that I was no +Delaware. No--my own heart says, 'know--find out.'" + +"And why should the heart say 'know?'" said the old woman, still +rocking about, and looking at Verty with anxious affection. "Why +should my son seek to find?" + +"Because the winds are changed and sing new songs; the leaves whisper, +as I pass, with a new voice; and even the clouds are not what they +were to me when I ran after the shadows floating along the hills, and +across the hollows. I have changed, _ma mere_, and the streams talk no +more with the same tongue. I hear the flags and water-lilies muttering +as I pass, and the world opens on me with a new, strange light. They +talked to me once; now they laugh at me as I pass. Hear the trees, +yonder! Don't you hear them? They are saying, 'The Delaware paleface! +look at him! look at him!'" + +And crouching, with dreamy eyes, Verty for a moment listened to the +strange sob of the pines, swaying in the chill winds of the autumn +night. + +"I am not what I was!" he continued; the world is open now, and I must +be a part of it. The bear and deer speak to me with tongues I do not +understand. _Ma mere! ma mere_! I must know whether I am a Delaware or +pale face!--whether one or the other, I am still yours--yours always! +Speak! speak with a straight tongue to your child!" + +"Ough! ough! ough!" groaned the old woman, looking at him wistfully, +and plainly struggling with herself--hesitating between two courses. + +"Speak!" said Verty, with a glow in his eye, which made him resemble +a young leopard of the wild--"speak, _ma mere_!--I am no longer a +child! I go into a new land now, and how shall it be? As a red face, +or a long knife--which am I? Speak, _ma mere_--say if I am a Delaware, +whose place is the woods, or a white, whose life must take him from +the deer forever!" + +The struggle was ended; Verty could not have uttered words more fatal +to his discovering anything. He raised an insuperable barrier to +any revelations--if, indeed, there existed any mystery--by his +alternative. Was he a Delaware, and thus doomed to live in the forest +with his old Indian mother--or was he a white, in which case, he would +leave her? Pride, cunning, above all, deep and pure affection, sealed +the old woman's lips, if she had thought of opening them. She looked +for sometime at Verty, then, taking his head between her hands, she +said, with eyes full of tears: + +"You are my own dear son--my young, beautiful hawk of the woods--who +said you were not a true Delaware!" + +And the old woman bent down, and with a look of profound affection, +pressed her lips to Verty's forehead. + +The young man's face assumed an expression of mingled gloom and doubt, +and he sighed. Then he was an Indian--a Delaware--the son of the +Indian woman--he was not a paleface. All the talk about it was thrown +away; he was born in the woods--would live and die in the woods! + +For a moment the image of Redbud rose before him, and he sighed. He +knew not why, but he wished that he was not an Indian--he wished that +his blood had been that of the whites. + +His sad face drooped; then his eyes ware raised, and he saw the old +woman weeping. + +The sight removed from Verty's mind all personal considerations, and +he leaned his head upon her knee, and pressed her hand to his lips. + +"Did the child make his mother weep," he said; "did his idle words +bring rain to her eyes, and make her heart heavy? But he is her child +still, and all the world is nothing to him." + +Verty rose, and taking the old, withered hand, placed it respectfully +on his breast. + +"Never again, _ma mere_" he said, "will the wind talk to me, or the +birds whisper. I will not listen. Have I made your eyes dark? Let it +pass away--I am your son--I love you--more than all the whole wide +world." + +And Verty sat down, and gazed tenderly at the old woman, whose face +had assumed an expression of extraordinary delight. + +"Listen," said Verty, taking down his old violin, with a smile, +"I will play one of the old tunes, which blow like a wind from my +childhood--happy childhood." + +And the young man gazed for a moment, silent and motionless, into the +fire. Then he raised his old, battered instrument, and began to play +one of the wild madrigals of the border. + +The music aroused Longears, who sat up, so to speak, upon his +forepaws, and with his head bent upon one side, gazed with dignified +and solemn interest at his master. + +The young man smiled, and continued playing; and as the rude border +music floated from the instrument, the Verty of old days came back, +and he was once again the forest hunter. + +The old woman gazed at him with thoughtful affection, and returned his +smile. He went on playing, and the long hours of the autumn night went +by like birds into the cloudland of the past. + +When the forest boy ceased playing, it was nearly midnight, and the +brands were flickering and dying. + +Waked by the silence, Longears, who had gone to sleep again, rose up, +and came and licked his master's hand, and whined. Verty caressed his +head, and laying down his violin, looked at the old Indian woman with +affectionate smiles, and murmured: + +"We are happy still, _ma mere_!" + + + + +CHAPTER LXI. + +MISTRESS O'CALLIGAN'S WOOERS. + + +It will be remembered that Mr. Jinks had summed up the probable +results of his deep laid schemes that morning when he returned from +Mistress O'Calligan's, in the strong and emphatic word-picture, "there +will be gory blood, sir!" + +Now, while these words, strictly construed, are, perhaps, ambiguous, +from a certain redundancy in the arrangement, still, there is little +difficulty in determining what Mr. Jinks meant. Death and destruction +dwelt in his imagination, and held there a riotous carnival; and to +such a pitch of delight was our friend elevated by the triumphant +anticipation of revenge upon O'Brallaghan, that he stalked about +during the remaining portion of the day, talking to himself in the +heroic vein, and presenting the appearance of an imperial grasshopper, +arrived at the summit of felicity. + +But Mr. Jinks was not idle; no one knew better than himself that +vigilance was the price paid for success; and to vigilance our +conspirator added cunning--in which noble trait he was by no means +deficient. + +We have seen how, on returning from the heroic attack upon the +peace-bound O'Brallaghan, Mr. Jinks threw out a series of observations +which attracted the attention of the landlord at the tavern; and +we have further seen these two gentlemen retire together into the +hostelry, with significant looks and mutterings. Of the exact nature +of that interview we cannot speak, having nowhere discovered any +memoranda to guide us, in the authentic documents from which this +history is compiled. + +But results define causes; and from after events it is not improbable +that Mr. Jinks made an eloquent and stirring oration, addressed after +the manner of all great orators to the prejudices of the auditor, +and indicative of Mr. Jinks' intention to overwhelm, with defeat and +destruction, the anti-Germanic league and pageant, on St. Michael's +day. + +That day was very near, as we have seen; but twenty-four hours +remained for the conspirators to act in; and Mr. Jinks determined not +to lose the opportunity to perfect and render satisfactory his bloody +revenge. + +Many things conspired to put him in high spirits, and arouse that +heroic confidence felt by all great men in undertaking arduous +affairs. The landlord had been so much pleased with Mr. Jinks' +patriotic ardor in the German cause, that he generously hinted at an +entire obliteration of any little score chalked up against the name +of Jinks for board and lodging at the hostelry; this was one of the +circumstances which inspirited Mr. Jinks. Another was the possession +of a steed--a donkey, it is true, but a donkey out of a thousand, _nee +pluribus impar_, and not unworthy of a knight in a great and exciting +contest. + +Thus it happened that when, upon the following morning, Mr. Jinks +arose, assumed his garments, and descended, his face was radiant with +anticipated triumph, his sword clattered against his slender legs with +martial significance, and his brows were corrugated into a frown, +which indicated ruin to all those opposed to him. + +Mounted upon Fodder, who was sleek and in high spirits, owing to a +good night's rest and a plentiful supply of his favorite provender, +Mr. Jinks remained for a moment irresolute before the door of the +hostelry, revolving in his mind various and conflicting thoughts of +love and war. + +Should he go on his handsome animal, and enact the little drama, which +he had arranged in his mind, with Miss Sallianna at the Bower of +Nature? Should he, on this morning, advance to victory and revenge in +that direction? Or should he go and challenge his enemy, Verty, and +make his name glorious forever? + +These conflicting ideas chased themselves through Mr. Jinks' mind, and +rendered him irresolute. + +He was interrupted in the midst of them by a voice, laughing and +sonorous, which cried from the direction of the gateway: + +"Hey, there! What now, Jinks'? What thoughts occupy your mind, my dear +fellow?" + +And Ralph came out from the yard of the tavern, mounted upon his +handsome animal, as fresh and bright-looking as himself. + +"I was reflecting, sir," said Mr. Jinks, "I have much to occupy me +to-day." + +"Ah? Well, set about it--set about it! Don't you know that the great +element of success in life, from killing a mosquito to winning an +empress, is to strike at once, and at the right moment? Go on, Jinks, +my boy, and luck to you!" + +"Thanks, sir," replied Mr. Jinks--"I hope I shall have luck." + +"Of course, because you have genius! What is luck?" cried Ralph, +bending down to smooth the glossy neck of his animal, and laughing +gaily,--"why, nothing but a word! Luck, sir, is nothing--genius +everything. Luck throws her old shoe after, as says the proverb; but +genius catches it, and conquers. Come, you are good at everything, let +us have a race!" + +"No, I thank you," said Mr. Jinks, drawing back; "I have business, +sir--important business, sir!" + +"Have you?" said Ralph, restraining his desire to lay the lash of his +whip over Fodder's back, and so inaugurate a new Iliad of woes for Mr. +Jinks. "Then go on in your course, my dear fellow. I am going to see a +young lady, who really is beginning to annoy me." + +And the mercurial young fellow passed from laughter to smiles, and +even to something suspiciously resembling a sigh. + +"Farewell, my dear Jinks," he added, becoming gay again; "fortune +favors the brave, recollect. I wish I could believe it," he added, +laughing. + +And touching his horse, Ralph set forward toward the Bower of Nature, +and consequently toward Miss Fanny. + +"There goes a young man who is in love," said Mr. Jinks, with +philosophic dignity; "regularly caught by a pair of black eyes. Boy!" +added Mr. Jinks, after the manner of Coriolanus, "he don't know 'em as +I do. He's looking out for happiness--I for revenge!" + +And Mr. Jinks scowled at a stable-boy until the terrified urchin hung +his head in awe, respect, and admiration. The great militaire was not +superior to humanity, and even this triumph elated him. He set forth, +therefore, on Fodder, feeling like a conqueror. + +If this veracious history were a narrative of the life and adventures +of Mr. Jinks alone, we might follow the great conspirator in his +various movements on this eventful day. We might show how he +perambulated the town of Winchester on his noble steed, like a second +Don Quixote, mounted for the nonce upon the courser of Sancho Panza, +while Rosinante recovered from his bruises. Though the illustration +might fail if carried further, inasmuch as Mr. Jinks encountered no +windmills, and indeed met with no adventures worth relating, still +we might speak of his prying inquisition into every movement of the +hostile Irish--detail his smiling visits, in the character of spy, +to numerous domicils, and relate at length the manner in which he +procured the information which the noble knight desired. All this we +might do; but is it necessary? Not always does the great historic muse +fill up the flaws of story, leaving rather much to the imagination. +And in the present instance, we might justly be accused of undue +partiality. We are not sure that some of our kind readers might not go +further still, and declare in general terms, that none of Mr. Jinks' +adventures were worth telling--Mr. Jinks himself being a personage +wholly unworthy of attention. + +To critics of this last description, we would say in deprecation of +their strictures--Friends, the world is made up of a number of odd +personages, as the animal kingdom is of singular, and not wholly +pleasant creatures. Just as the scarabaeus and the ugly insect are as +much a part of animated nature as the golden-winged butterfly, and +humming-bird, and noble eagle, so are the classes, represented +partly by our friend, as human as the greatest and the best. As the +naturalist, with laborious care, defines the characteristics of the +ugly insect, buzzing, and stinging, and preying on the weaker, so must +the writer give a portion of his attention to the microscopic bully, +braggart, and boasting coward of the human species. In the one case, +it is _science_--in the other, _art_. + +But still we shall not give too much space to Mr. Jinks, and shall +proceed to detail very briefly the result of his explorations. + +The great conspirator had, by the hour of eventide, procured all the +information he wished. That information led Mr. Jinks to believe that, +on the following day, the opposing races would turn out in numbers, +far exceeding those on any previous occasion. They would have a grand +pageant:--St. Patrick would meet St. Michael in deadly conflict, and +the result would undoubtedly overwhelm one of the combatants with +defeat, elevating the other to the summit of joy and victory. + +It was Mr. Jinks' object to ensure the success of the worthy St. +Michael, and prostrate the great St. Patrick in the dust. But this was +not all. Mr. Jinks further desired to procure an adequate revenge upon +his friend O'Brallaghan. To overwhelm with defeat and dismay the party +to which his enemy belonged, was not enough--any common man could +invent so plain a course as that. It was Mr. Jinks' boast, privately, +and to himself be it understood, that he would arrange the details +of an original and refined revenge--a revenge which should, in equal +degree, break down the strength and spirit of his enemy, and elevate +the inventor to the niche of a great creative genius. + +By the hour of nine that night all was arranged; and, after laboring +for an hour or more at some mysterious employment, in the secresy of +his apartment, Mr. Jinks descended, and ordered Fodder to be saddled. + +Under his arm he carried a bundle of some size; and this bundle was +placed carefully before him on the animal. + +This done, Mr. Jinks went forth cautiously into the night. + +Let us follow him. + +He proceeds carefully toward the western portion of the town; then +suddenly turns a corner, and goes northward; then changes his course, +and takes his way eastward. This is to throw enemies off the track. + +Half an hour's ride brings him in the neighborhood of Mistress +O'Calligan's. + +What does he hear? A voice singing;--the voice of no less a personage +than Mr. O'Brallaghan. + +The conspirator retraces his steps for some distance--dismounts--ties +Fodder to a tree-trunk; and then, with his bundle under his arm, +creeps along in the shadow toward the cabin. + +At Mrs. O'Calligan's door, sitting upon the railing, he perceives the +portly figure of Mr. O'Brallaghan, who is singing a song of his +own composition; not the ditty which has come down to modern times +connected with this gentleman's name--but another and more original +madrigal. The popular ditty, we have every reason to believe, was +afterwards written by Mr. Jinks, in derision and contempt of Mr. +O'Brallaghan. + +Mr. Jinks creeps up; diabolical and gloomy thoughts agitate his soul; +and when a night-cap appears at an opening in the shutter, and a +fluttering voice exclaims, "Oh, now--really! Mr. O'Brallaghan," the +hidden spectator trembles with jealousy and rage. + +A colloquy then ensues between the manly singer and the maiden, +which we need not repeat. It is enough to say, that Mr. O'Brallaghan +expresses disapprobation at the coldness of the lady. + +The lady replies, that she respects and esteems Mr. O'Brallaghan, but +never, never can be his, owing to the fact that she is another's. + +Mr. Jinks starts with joy, and shakes his fist--from the protecting +shadow--triumphantly at the poor defeated wooer. + +The wooer, in turn, grows cold and defiant; he upbraids the lady; he +charges her with entertaining a passion for the rascal and coward +Jinks. + +This causes the lady to repel the insulting accusation with hauteur. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan thinks, and says, thereupon, that she is a cruel and +unnatural woman, and unworthy of affection or respect. + +Mistress O'Calligan wishes, in reply, to know if Mr. O'Brallaghan +means to call her a woman. + +Mr. O'Brallaghan replies that he does, and that if Mr. Jinks were +present, he would exterminate that gentleman, as some small exhibition +of the state of his feelings at being thus insulted by the worst and +most hard-hearted of her sex. + +After which, Mr. O'Brallaghan clenches his hands with threatening +vehemence, and brushing by the concealed Jinks, who makes himself as +small as possible, disappears, muttering vengeance. + +Mr. Jinks is happy, radiant, triumphant, and as he watches the +retreating wooer, his frame shakes with sombre merriment. Then he +turns toward the window, and laughs with cautious dignity. + +The lady, who is just closing the window, starts and utters an +exclamation of affright. This, however, is disregarded by Mr. Jinks, +who draws near, and stands beneath the window. + +Mistress O'Calligan considers it necessary to state that she is in +such a taking, and to ask who could have thought it. Mr. Jinks does +not directly reply to this question, but, reaching up, hands in the +bundle, and commences a whispered conversation. The lady is doubtful, +fearful--Mr. Jinks grows more eloquent. Finally, the lady melts, and +when Mr. Jinks clasps, rapturously, the red hand hanging out, he has +triumphed. + +In fifteen minutes he is on his way back to the tavern, chuckling, +shaking, and triumphant. + +All is prepared. + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +VERTY MUSES. + + +Let us now leave the good old town of Winchester, and go into the +hills, where the brilliant autumn morning reigns, splendid and +vigorous. + +In the hills! Happy is the man who knows what those words mean; for +only the mountain-born can understand them. Happy, then, let us say, +are the mountain-born! We will not underrate the glories of the +lowland and the Atlantic shore, or close our eyes to the wealth of the +sea. The man is blind who does not catch the subtle charm of the wild +waves glittering in the sun, or brooded over by the sullen storm; but +"nigh gravel blind" is that other, whose eyes are not open to the +grand beauty of the mountains. Let us not rhapsodize, or with this +little bit of yellow ore, venture to speak of the great piles of +grandeur from whose heart it was dug up. There is that about the +mountains, with their roaring diapason of the noble pines, their +rugged summits and far dying tints, purple, and gold, and azure, which +no painter could express, had the genius of Titian and Watteau, and +the atmosphere of Poussin, to speak over its creations. No! let them +speak for themselves as all great things must--happy is he, who, by +right of birth, can understand their noble voices! + +But there is the other and lesser mountain life--the life of the +hills. Autumn loves these especially, and happy, too, are they who +know the charm of the breezy hills! The hills where autumn pours her +ruddy sunshine upon lordly pines--rather call them palms!--shooting +their slender swaying trunks into the golden sea of morning, and, far +up above, waving their emerald plumes in the laughing wind;--where +the sward is fresh and dewy in the shivering delicious hunter's +morning!--where the arrow-wood and dogwood cluster crimson berries, +and the maple, alder tree and tulip, burn away--setting the dewy copse +on fire with splendor! Yes, autumn loves the hills, and pours her +brawling brooks, swarming with leaves, through thousands of hollows, +any one of which might make a master-piece on canvas. Some day we +shall have them--who knows?--and even the great mountain-ranges shall +be mastered by the coming man. + +We do not know the name of the "hollow" through which Verty came +on the bright morning of the day following the events we have just +related. But autumn had never dowered any spot more grandly. All the +trees were bright and dewy in the sunrise--birds were singing--and the +thousand variegated colors of the fall swept on from end to end of it, +swallowing the little stream, and breaking against the sky like a gay +fringe. + +Verty knew all this, and though he did not look at it, he saw it, and +his lips moved. + +Cloud pricked up his ears, and the hound gazed at his master +inquiringly. But Verty was musing; his large, dreamy eyes were fixed +with unalterable attention upon vacancy, and his drooping shoulders, +whereon lay the tangled mass of his chestnut hair, swayed regularly as +he moved. It only mingled with his musings--the bright scene--and grew +a part of them; he scarcely saw it. + +"Yes," he murmured, "yes, I think I am a Delaware!--a white? to dream +it! am I mad? The wild night-wind must have whispered to me while I +slept, and gone away laughing at me. I, the savage, the simple savage, +to think this was so! And yet--yes, yes--I did think so! Redbud said +it was thus--Redbud!" + +And the young man for a time was silent. + +"I wonder what Redbud thinks of me?" he murmured again, with his old +dreamy smile. "Can she find anything to like in me? What am I? Poor, +poor Verty--you are very weak, and the stream here is laughing at you. +You are a poor forest boy--there can be nothing in you for Redbud to +like. Oh! if she could! But we are friends, I know--about the other, +why think? what is it? Love!--what is love? It must be something +strange--or why do I feel as if to be friends was not enough? Love!" + +And Verty's head drooped. + +"Love, love!" he murmured. "Oh, yes! I know what it means! They laugh +at it--but they ought not to. It is heaven in the heart--sunshine in +the breast. Oh, I feel that what I mean by love is purer than the +whole wide world besides! Yes, yes--because I would die for her! I +would give my life to save her any suffering--her hand on my forehead +would be dearer and sweeter than the cool spring in the hills after a +weary, day-long hunt, when I come to it with hot cheeks and burnt-up +throat! Oh, yes! I may be an Indian, and be different--but this is all +to me--this feeling, as if I must go to her, and kneel down and tell +her that my life is gone from me when I am not near her--that I walk +and live like a man dreaming, when she does not smile on me and speak +to me!" + +Verty's head drooped, and his cheeks reddened with the ingenuous blush +of boyhood. Then he raised his head, and murmured, with a smile, which +made his face beautiful--so full of light and joy was it. + +"Yes--I think I am in love with Redbud--and she does not think it +wrong, I am sure--oh, I don't think she will think it wrong in me, and +turn against me, only because I love her!" + +Having arrived at this conclusion, Verty went along smiling, and +admiring the splendid tints of the foliage--drinking in the fresh, +breezy air of morning, and occasionally listening for the cries of +game--of deer, and turkey, pheasants, and the rest. He heard with his +quick ear many of these sounds: the still croak of the turkey, the +drumming of the pheasant; more than once saw disappear on a distant +hill, like a flying shadow, the fallow deer, which he had so often +chased and shot. But on that morning he could not leave his path to +follow the wild deer, or slay the lesser game, of which the copses +were full. Mastered by a greater passion even than hunting, Verty drew +near Apple Orchard--making signs with his head to the deer to go on +their way, and wholly oblivious of pheasants. + +He reached Apple Orchard just as the sun soared redly up above the +distant forest; and the old homestead waked up with it. Morning always +smiled on Apple Orchard, and the brilliant flush seemed, there, more +brilliant still; while all the happy breezes flying over it seemed to +regret their destiny which led them far away to other clouds. + +Verty always stopped for a moment on his way to and from Winchester, +to bid the inmates good morning; and these hours had come to be the +bright sunny spots in days otherwise full of no little languor. For +when was Daymon merry and light-hearted, separated from his love? It +is still the bright moment of meeting which swallows up all other +thoughts--around which the musing heart clusters all its joy and +hope--which is looked forward to and dreamed over, with longing, +dreamy, yet excited happiness. And this is the reason why the most +fatal blow which the young heart can suffer is a sudden warning that +there must be no more meetings. No more! when it dreams of and +clings to that thought of meeting, as the life and vital blood +of to-morrow!--when the heart is liquid--the eyes moist with +tenderness--the warp of thought woven of golden thread--at such a +moment for the blow of the wave to fall, and drown the precious argosy +with all its freight of love, and hope, and memory--this is the +supreme agony of youth, the last and most refined of tortures. + +Verty lived in the thought of meeting Redbud--his days were full of +her; but the hours he passed at Apple Orchard were the brightest. The +noonday culminated at dawn and sunset! + +As he approached the pleasant homestead now, his eyes lighted up, and +his face beamed with smiles. Redbud was standing in the porch waiting +for him. + +She was clad with her usual simplicity, and smiled gently as he +approached. Verty threw the bundle upon Cloud's mane, and came to her. + +They scarcely interchanged a word, but the hand of the girl was +imprisoned in his own; and the tenderness which had been slowly +gathering for months into love, pure, and deep, and strong, flushed +his ingenuous face, and made his eyes swim in tears. + +It was well that Verty was interrupted as he essayed to speak; for we +cannot tell what he would have said. He did not speak; for just as he +opened his lips, a gruff voice behind him uttered the words: + +"Well, sir! where is your business?" + + + + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +HOW VERTY AND MISS LAVINIA RAN A-TILT AT EACH OTHER, AND WHO WAS +OVERTHROWN. + + +The young man turned round: the gruff voice belonged to Judge Rushton. + +That gentleman had left his horse at the outer gate, and approached +the house on foot. Absorbed by his own thoughts, Verty had not seen +him--as indeed neither had Redbud--and the gruff voice gave the young +man the first intimation of his presence. + +"Well," repeated the lawyer, leaning on his knotty stick, and scowling +at the two young people from beneath his shaggy eyebrows, "what are +you standing there staring at me for? Am I a wild beast, a rhinoceros, +or a monster of any description, that you can't speak? I asked you why +you were not in town at your work?" + +Verty pointed to the horizon. + +"The day has only begun," he said. + +"Well, sir--" + +"And I stopped for only one minute, Mr. Rushton," added Verty." + +"One minute! Do you know, sir, that life is made up of minutes?" + +"Yes, sir," said Verty. + +"Well, if you know that, why do you trifle away your minutes? Don't +reply to me, young man," continued the shaggy bear, "I have no desire +to argue with you--I hate and despise arguing, and will not indulge +you. But remember this, Life is the struggle of a man to pay the debt +he owes to Duty. If he forgets his work, or neglects it, for paltry +gratifications of the senses or the feelings, he is disgraced--he is a +coward in the ranks--a deserter from the regiment--he is an absconding +debtor, sir, and will be proceeded against as such--remember that, +sir! A pretty thing for you here, when you have your duty to +your mother to perform, to be thus dallying and cooing with this +baby--ough!" + +And the lawyer scowled at Redbud with terrible emphasis. + +Redbud knew Mr. Rushton well,--and smiled. She was rather grateful to +him for having interrupted an interview which her woman-instinct told +had commenced critically; and though Redbud could not, perhaps, have +told any one what she feared, still this instinct spoke powerfully to +her. + +It was with a smile, therefore, that Redbud held out her hand to Mr. +Rushton, and said: + +"Please don't scold Verty--he won't stay long, and he just stopped to +ask how we all were." + +"Humph!" replied the lawyer, his scowling brow relaxing somewhat as he +felt the soft, warm little hand in his own,--"humph! that's the way it +always is. He only stopped to say good morning to 'all;'--I suspect +his curiosity was chiefly on the subject of a single member of the +family." + +And a grim smile corrugated--so to speak--the rugged countenance. + +Redbud blushed slightly, and said: + +"Verty likes us all very much, and--" + +"Not a doubt of it!" said the lawyer, "and no doubt 'we all' like +Verty! Come, you foolish children, don't be bothering me with your +nonsense. And you, Mr. Verty--you need'nt be so foolish as to consider +everything I say so harsh as you seem to. You'll go next and tell +somebody that old Rushton is an ill-natured huncks, without conscience +or proper feeling; that he grumbled with you for stopping a moment to +greet your friends. If you say any such thing," added Mr. Rushton, +scowling at the young man, "you will be guilty of as base a +slander--yes, sir! as base a slander, sir!--as imagination could +invent!" + +And with a growl, the speaker turned from Verty, and said, roughly, to +Redbud: + +"Where's your father?"' + +"Here I am," said the bluff and good-humored voice of the Squire, from +the door; "you are early--much obliged to you." And the Squire and +lawyer shook hands. Mr. Rushton's hand fell coldly to his side, and +regarding the Squire for a moment with what seemed an expression +of contemptuous anger, he said, frowning, until his shaggy, grey +eye-brows met together almost: + +"Early! I suppose I am to take up the whole forenoon--the most +valuable part of the day--jogging over the country to examine +title-deeds and accounts? Humph! if you expect anything of the sort, +you are mistaken. No, sir! I started from Winchester at day-break, +without my breakfast, and here I am." + +The jovial Squire laughed, and turning from Verty, with whom he had +shaken hands, said to the lawyer: + +"Breakfast?--is it possible? Well, Rushton, for once I will be +magnanimous--magnificent, generous and liberal--" + +"What!" growled the lawyer. + +"You shall have some breakfast here!" finished the Squire, laughing +heartily; and the merry old fellow caught Miss Redbud up from the +porch, deposited a matutinal salute upon her lips, and kicking at old +Caesar as he passed, by way of friendly greeting, led the way into the +breakfast room. + +Verty made a movement to depart, inasmuch as he had breakfasted; but +the vigilant eye of the lawyer detected this suspicious manoeuvre; +and the young man found himself suddenly commanded to remain, by the +formula "Wait!" uttered with a growl which might have done honor to a +lion. + +Verty was not displeased at this interference with his movements, and, +obedient to a sign, followed the lawyer into the breakfast-room. + +Everything was delightfully comfortable and cheerful there. + +And ere long, at the head of the table sat Miss Lavinia, silent and +dignified; at the foot, the Squire, rubbing his hands, heaping plates +with the savory broil before him, and talking with his mouth full; at +the sides, Mr. Rushton, Redbud and Verty, who sedulously suppressed +the fact that he had already breakfasted, for obvious reasons, +doubtless quite plain to the reader. + +The sun streamed in upon the happy group, and seemed to smile with +positive delight at sight of Redbud's happy face, surrounded by its +waving mass of curls--and soft blue eyes, which were the perfection of +tenderness and joy. + +He smiled on Verty, too, the jovial sun, and illumined the young man's +handsome, dreamy face, and profuse locks, and uncouth hunter costume, +with a gush of light which made him like a picture of some antique +master, thrown upon canvas in a golden mood, to live forever. All +the figures and objects in the room were gay in the bright sunlight, +too--the shaggy head of Mr. Rushton, and the jovial, ruddy face of the +Squire, and Miss Lavinia's dignified and stately figure, solemn and +imposing, flanked by the silver jug and urn--and on the old ticking +clock, and antique furniture, and smiling portraits, and recumbent +Caesar, did it shine, merry and laughing, taking its pastime ere it +went away to other lands, like a great, cheerful simple soul, smiling +at nature and all human life. + +And the talk of all was like the sunshine. The old Squire was king of +the breakfast table, and broke many a jesting shaft at one and all, +not even sparing the stately Miss Lavinia, and the rugged bear who +scowled across the table. + +"Good bread for once," said the Squire, slashing into the smoking +loaf; astonishing how dull those negroes are--not to be able to learn +such a simple thing as baking." + +"Simple!" muttered the lawyer, "it is not simple! If you recollected +something of chemistry, you would acknowledge that baking bread was no +slight achievement." + +"Come, growl again," said his host, laughing; "come, now, indulge your +habit, and say the bread is sour." + +"It is!" + +"What!--sour!" + +"Yes." + +The Squire stands aghast--or rather sits, laboring under that +sentiment. + +"It is the best bread we have had for six months," he says, at length, +"and as sweet as a nut." + +"You have no taste," says Mr. Rushton. + +"No taste?" + +"None: and the fact that it is the best you have had for six months is +not material testimony. You may have had _lead_ every morning--humph!" + +And Mr. Rushton continues his breakfast. + +The Squire laughs. + +"There you are--in a bad humor," he says. + +"I am not." + +"Come! say that the broil is bad!" + +"It is burnt to a cinder." + +"Burnt? Why it's underdone!" + +"Well, sir--every man to his taste--you may have yours; leave me +mine." + +"Oh, certainly; I see you are determined to like nothing. You'll say +next that Lavinia's butter is not sweet." + +The lawyer growls. + +"I have no desire to offend Miss Lavinia," he says, solemnly; "but +I'll take my oath that there's garlic in it--yes, sir, garlic!" + +The Squire bursts into a roar of laughter. + +"Good!" he cries--"you are in a cheerful and contented mood. You drop +in just when Lavinia has perfected her butter, and made it as fresh as +a nosegay; and when the cook has sent up bread as sweet as a kernel, +to say nothing of the broil, done to a turn--you come when this highly +desirable state of things has been arrived at, and presume to say that +this is done, that is burnt, the other is tainted with garlic! Admire +your own judgment!" + +And the Squire laughs jovially at his discomfited and growling +opponent. + +"True, Lavinia has had lately much to distract her attention," says +the jest-hunting Squire; "but her things were never better in spite +of--. Well we won't touch upon that subject!" + +And the mischievous Squire laughs heartily at Miss Lavinia's stately +and reproving expression. + +"What's that?" says Mr. Rushton; "what subject?" + +"Oh, nothing--nothing." + +"What does he mean, madam?" asks Mr. Rushton, of the lady. + +Miss Lavinia colors slightly, and looks more stately than ever. + +"Nothing, sir," she says, with dignity. + +"'Nothing!' nobody ever means anything!" + +"Oh, never," says the Squire, and then he adds, +mischievously,--"by-the-by, Rushton, how is my friend, Mr. +Roundjacket?" + +"As villainous as ever," says the lawyer; "my opinion of Mr. +Roundjacket, sir, is, that he is a villain!" + +Miss Lavinia colors to the temples--the Squire nearly bursts with +pent-up laughter. + +"What has he done? A villain did you say?" he asks. + +"Yes, sir!--a wretch!" + +"Possible?" + +"Yes--it is possible: and if you knew as much of human nature as I do, +you would never feel surprised at any man's turning out a villain and +a wretch! I am a wretch myself, sir!" + +And scowling at the Squire, Mr. Rushton goes on with his breakfast. + +The Squire utters various inarticulate sounds which seem to indicate +the stoppage of a bone in his throat. Nevertheless he soon recovers +his powers of speech, and says: + +"But how is Roundjacket so bad?" + +"He has taken to writing poetry." + +"That's an old charge." + +"No, sir--he has grown far worse, lately. He is writing an epic--an +epic!" + +And the lawyer looked inexpressibly disgusted. + +"I should think a gentleman might compose an epic poem without +rendering himself amenable to insult, sir," says Miss Lavinia, with +freezing hauteur. + +"You are mistaken," says Mr. Rushton; "your sex, madam, know nothing +of business. The lawyer who takes to writing poetry, must necessarily +neglect the legal business entrusted to him, and for which he is paid. +Now, madam," added Mr. Rushton, triumphantly, "I defy you, or any +other man--individual, I mean--to say that the person who takes money +without giving an equivalent, is not a villain and a wretch!" + +Miss Lavinia colors, and mutters inarticulately. + +"Such a man," said Mr. Rushton, with dreadful solemnity, "is already +on his way to the gallows; he has already commenced the downward +course of crime. From this, he proceeds to breach of promise--I mean +any promise, not of marriage only, madam--then to forging, then to +larceny, and finally to burglary and murder. There, madam, that is +what I mean--I defy you to deny the truth of what I say!" + +The Squire could endure the pressure upon his larynx no longer, and +exploded like a bomb-shell; or if not in so terrible a manner, at +least nearly as loudly. + +No one can tell what the awful sentiments of Mr. Rushton, on the +subject of Roundjacket would have led to, had not the Squire come to +the rescue. + +"Well, well," he said, still laughing, "it is plain, my dear Rushton, +that for once in your life you are not well posted up on the 'facts of +your case,' and you are getting worse and worse in your argument, to +say nothing of the prejudice of the jury. Come, let us dismiss the +subject. I don't think Mr. Roundjacket, however, will turn out a +murderer, which would be a horrible blow to me, as I knew his worthy +father well, and often visited him at 'Flowery Lane,' over yonder. But +the discussion is unprofitable--hey! what do you think, Verty, and +you, Miss Redbud?" + +Verty raises his head and smiles. + +"I am very fond of Mr. Roundjacket," he says. + +"Fond of him?" + +"Yes, sir: he likes me too, I think," Verty says. + +"How does he show it, my boy?" + +"He gives me advice, sir." + +"What! and you like him for that?" + +"Oh, yes, sir." + +"Well, perhaps the nature of the advice may modify my surprise at your +gratitude, Verty." + +"_Anan_, sir?" + +"What advice does he give you?" + +Verty laughs. + +"Must I tell, sir? I don't know if--" + +And Verty blushes slightly, looking at Miss Lavinia and Redbud. + +"Come, speak out!" laughs the Squire. "He advises you--" + +"Not to get married." + +And Verty blushes. + +We need not say that the wicked old Squire greets this reply of Verty +with a laugh sufficient to shake the windows. + +"Not to get married!" he cries. + +"Yes, sir," Verty replies, blushing ingenuously. + +"And you like Mr. Roundjacket, you say, because he advises you not to +get--" + +"No, oh! no, sir!" interrupts Verty, with sudden energy, "oh! no, sir, +I did not mean that!" + +And the young man, embarrassed by his own vehemence, and the eyes +directed toward his face, hangs his head and blushes. Yes, the bold, +simple, honest Verty, blushes, and looks ashamed, and feels as if he +is guilty of some dreadful crime. Do. not the best of us, under the +same circumstances?--that is to say, if we have the good fortune to be +young and innocent. + +The Squire looks at Verty and laughs; then at Miss Lavinia. + +"So, it seems," he says, "that Mr. Roundjacket counsels a bachelor +life, eh? Good! he is a worthy professor, but an indifferent +practitioner. The rascal! Did you ever hear of such a thing, Lavinia? +I declare, if I were a lady, I should decline to recognize, among my +acquaintances, the upholder of such doctrines--especially when he +poisons the ears of boys like Verty with them!" + +And the Squire continues to laugh. + +"Perhaps," says Miss Lavinia, with stately dignity, and glancing at +Verty as she speaks,--"perhaps the--hem--circumstances which induced +Mr. Roundjacket to give the advice, might have been--been--peculiar." + +And Miss Lavinia smooths down her black silk with dignity. + +"Peculiar?" + +"Yes," says the lady, glancing this time at Redbud. + +"How was it, Verty?" the Squire says, turning to the young man. + +Verty, conscious of his secret, blushes and stammers; for how can he +tell the Squire that Mr. Roundjacket and himself were discussing the +propriety of his marrying Redbud? He is no longer the open, frank, and +fearless Verty of old days--he has become a dissembler, for he is in +love. + +"I don't know--oh, sir--I could'nt--Mr. Roundjacket--" + +The Squire laughs. + +"There's some secret here," he says; "out with it, Verty, or it +will choke you. Come, Rushton, you are an adept--cross-examine the +witness." + +Mr. Rushton growls. + +"You won't--then I will." + +"Perhaps the time, and the subject of conversation, might aid you," +says Miss Lavinia, who is nettled at Verty, and thus is guily of what +she is afterwards ashamed of. + +"A good idea," says the Squire; "and I am pleased to see, Lavinia, +that you take so much interest in Verty and Mr. Roundjacket." + +Miss Lavinia blushes, and looks solemn and stiff. + +"Hum!" continues the Squire. "Oyez! the court is opened! First +witness, Mr. Verty! Where, sir, did this conversation occur?" + +Verty smiles and colors. + +"At Mr. Roundjacket's, sir," he replies. + +"The hour, as near as you can recollect." + +"In the forenoon, sir." + +"Were there any circumstances which tend to fix the hour, and the day, +in your mind?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What were they?" + +"I recollect that Miss Lavinia called to see Mr. Roundjacket that day, +sir; and as she generally comes into town on Tuesday or Wednesday, +soon after breakfast it must have been--" + +Verty is interrupted by a chair pushed back from the table. It is Miss +Lavinia, who, rising, with a freezing "excuse me," sails from the +room. + +The Squire bursts into a roar of laughter, and leaving the table, +follows her, and is heard making numerous apologies for his wickedness +in the next room. He returns with the mischievious smile, and says: + +"There, Verty! you are a splendid fellow, but you committed a +blunder." + +And laughing, the Squire adds: + +"Will you come and see the titles, Rushton?" + +The lawyer growls, rises, and bidding Verty remain until he comes out, +follows the Squire. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIV. + +THE ROSE OF GLENGARY. + + +Redbud rose, smiling, and with the gentle simplicity of one child to +another, said: + +"Oh! you ought not to have said that about cousin Lavinia, +Verty--ought you?" + +Verty looked guilty. + +"I don't think I ought," he said. + +"You know she is very sensitive about this." + +"Anan?" Verty said, smiling. + +Redbud looked gently at the young man, and replied: + +"I mean, she does not like any one to speak of it?" + +"Why?" said Verty. + +"Because--because--engaged people are so funny!" + +And Redbud's silver laughter followed the words. + +"Are they?" Verty said. + +"Yes, indeed." + +Verty nodded. + +"Next time I will be more thoughtful," he said; "but I think I ought +to have answered honestly." + +Redbud shook her curls with a charming little expression of affected +displeasure. + +"Oh, no! no!" + +"Not answer?" + +"Certainly not, sir--fie! in the cause of ladies!" + +Verty laughed. + +"I understand," he said, "you are thinking of the books about the +knights--the old Froissart, yonder, in four volumes. But you know +there were'nt any courts in those days, and knights were not obliged +to answer." + +Redbud, training up a drooping vine, replied, laughing: + +"Oh, no--I was only jesting. Don't mind my nonsense. Look at that +pretty morning-glory." + +Verty looked at Redbud, as if she were the object in question. + +"You will hurt your hand," he said,--"those thorns on the briar are so +sharp; take care!" + +And Verty grasped the vine, and, no doubt, accidentally, Redbud's hand +with it. + +"Now I have it," he said; and suddenly seeing the double meaning of +his words, the young man added, with a blush and a smile, "it is all I +want in the world." + +"What? the--oh!" + +And Miss Redbud, suddenly aware of Mr. Verty's meaning, finds her +voice rather unsafe, and her cheeks covered with blushes. But with +the tact of a grown woman, she applies herself to the defeat of her +knight; and, turning away, says, as easily as possible: + +"Oh, yes--the thorn; it is a pretty vine; take care, or it will hurt +your hand." + +Verty feels astounded at his own boldness, but says, with his dreamy +Indian smile: + +"Oh, no, I don't want the thorn--the rose!--the rose!" + +Redbud understands that this is only a paraphrase--after the Indian +fashion--for her own name, and blushes again. + +"We--were--speaking of cousin Lavinia," she says, hesitatingly. + +Verty sighs. + +"Yes," he returns. + +Redbud smiles. + +"And I was scolding you for replying to papa's question," she adds. + +Verty sighs again, and says: + +"I believe you were right; I don't think I could have told them what +we were talking about." + +"Why?" asks the young girl. + +"We were talking about you," says Verty, gazing at Redbud tenderly; +"and you will think me very foolish," adds Verty, with a tremor in +his voice; "but I was asking Mr. Roundjacket if he thought you +could--love--me--O, Redbud--" + +Verty is interrupted by the appearance of Miss Lavinia. + +Redbud turns away, blushing, and overwhelmed with confusion. + +Miss Lavinia comes to the young man, and holds out her hand. + +"I did not mean to hurt your feelings, just now, Verty," she says, +"pardon me if I made you feel badly. I was somewhat nettled, I +believe." + +And having achieved this speech, Miss Lavinia stiffens again into +imposing dignity, sails away into the house, and disappears, leaving +Verty overwhelmed with surprise. + +He feels a hand laid upon his arm;--a blushing face looks frankly and +kindly into his own. + +"Don't let us talk any more in that way, Verty, please," says the +young girl, with the most beautiful frankness and ingenuousness; "we +are friends and playmates, you know; and we ought not to act toward +each other as if we were grown gentleman and lady. Please do not; it +will make us feel badly, I am sure. I am only Redbud, you know, and +you are Verty, my friend and playmate. Shall I sing you one of our old +songs?" + +The soft, pure voice sounded in his ears like some fine melody of +olden poets--her frank, kind eyes, as she looked at him, soothed and +quieted him. Again, she was the little laughing star of his childhood, +as when they wandered about over the fields--little children--that +period so recent, yet which seemed so far away, because the opening +heart lives long in a brief space of time. Again, she was to him +little Redbud, he to her was the boy-playmate Verty. She had done all +by a word--a look; a kind, frank smile, a single glance of confiding +eyes. He loved her more than ever--yes, a thousand times more +strongly, and was calm. + +He followed her to the harpsichord, and watched her in every movement, +with quiet happiness; he seemed to be under the influence of a charm. + +"I think I will try and sing the 'Rose of Glengary,'" she said, +smiling; "you know, Verty, it is one of the old songs you loved so +much, and it will make us think of old times--in childhood, you know; +though that is not such old, _old_ time--at least for me," added +Redbud, with a smile, more soft and confiding than before. "Shall I +sing it? Well, give me the book--the brown-backed one." + +The old volume--such as we find to-day in ancient country-houses--was +opened, and Redbud commenced singing. The girl sang the sweet ditty +with much expression; and her kind, touching voice filled the old +homestead with a tender melody, such as the autumn time would utter, +could its spirit become vocal. The clear, tender carol made the place +fairy-land for Verty long years afterwards, and always he seemed to +hear her singing when he visited the room. Redbud sang afterwards more +than one of those old ditties--"Jock o' Hazeldean," and "Flowers of +the Forest," and many others--ditties which, for us to-day, seem like +so many utterances of the fine old days in the far past. + +For, who does not hear them floating above those sweet fields of the +olden time--those bright Hesperian gardens, where, for us at least, +the fruits are all golden, and the airs all happy? + +Beautiful, sad ditties of the brilliant past! not he who writes would +have you lost from memory, for all the modern world of music. Kind +madrigals! which have an aroma of the former day in all your cadences +and dear old fashioned trills--from whose dim ghosts now, in the faded +volumes stored away in garrets and on upper shelves, we gather what +you were in the old immemorial years! Soft melodies of another age, +that sound still in the present with such moving sweetness, one +heart at least knows what a golden treasure you clasp, and listens +thankfully when you deign to issue out from silence; for he finds in +you alone--in your gracious cadences, your gay or stately voices--what +he seeks; the life, and joy, and splendor of the antique day sacred to +love and memory! + +And Verty felt the nameless charm of the good old songs, warbled by +the young girl's sympathetic voice; and more than once his wild-wood +nature stirred within him, and his eyes grew moist. And when she +ceased, and the soft carol went away to the realm of silence, and was +heard no more, the young man was a child again; and Redbud's hand was +in his own, and all his heart was still. + +The girl rose, with a smile, and said that they had had quite enough +of the harpsichord and singing--the day was too beautiful to spend +within doors. And so she ran gaily to the door, and as she reached it, +uttered a gay exclamation. Ralph and Fanny were seen approaching from +the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER LXV. + +PROVIDENCE. + + +Ralph was mounted, as usual, upon his fine sorrel, and Fanny rode a +little milk-white pony, which the young man had procured for her. We +need not say that Miss Fanny looked handsome and coquettish, or Mr. +Ralph merry and good-humored. Laughter was Fanny's by undoubted right, +unless her companion could contest the palm. + +Miss Fanny's first movement, after dismounting, was to clasp Miss +Redbud to her bosom with enthusiastic affection, as is the habit with +young ladies upon public occasions; and then the fair equestrian +recognized Verty's existence by a fascinating smile, which caused the +unfortunate Ralph to gaze and sigh. + +"Oh, Redbud!" cried Miss Fanny, laughing, and shaking gaily her ebon +curls, "you can't think what a delightful ride I've had--with Ralph, +you know, who has'nt been half as disagreeable as usual--" + +"Come," interposed Ralph, "that's too bad!" + +"Not for you, sir!" + +"Even for me." + +"Well, then, I'll say you are more agreeable than usual." + +"That is better, though some might doubt whether that was possible." + +"Ralph, you are a conceited, fine gentleman, and positively dreadful." + +"Ah, you dread me!" + +"No, sir!" + +"Well, that is not fair--for I am afraid of you. The fact is, Miss +Redbud," continued Ralph, turning to the young girl, "I have fallen +deeply in love with Fanny, lately--" + +"Oh, sir!" said Redbud, demurely. + +"But I have not told you the best of the joke." + +"What is that?" + +"She's in love with me." + +And Ralph directed a languishing glance toward Fanny, who cried out: + +"Impudence! to say that I am in love with you. It's too bad, Ralph, +for you to be talking so!" added Fanny, pouting and coloring, "and +I'll thank you not to talk so any more." + +"Why not?" + +"I'll be offended." + +"That will make you lovely." + +"Mr. Ashley!" + +"Miss Temple!" + +And striking an attitude, Mr. Ashley waited for Fanny's communication. + +Redbud smiled, and turning to Fanny, said: + +"Come, now, don't quarrel--and come in and take off your things." + +"Oh, I can't," cried the volatile Fanny, laughing--"Ralph and myself +just called by; we are past our time now. That horrid old Miss +Sallianna will scold me, though she does talk about the beauties of +nature--I wonder if she considers her front curls included!" + +And Miss Fanny tossed her own, and laughed in defiance of the absent +Sallianna. + +At the same moment the Squire came out with Mr. Rushton, and called to +Redbud. The young girl ran to him. + +"Would you like a ride, little one?" said the Squire, "Miss Lavinia +and myself are going to town." + +"Oh, yes, sir!" + +"But your visitors--" + +"Fanny says she cannot stay." + +Fanny ran up to speak for herself; and while Redbud hastened to her +room to prepare for the ride, this young lady commenced a triangular +duel with the Squire and Mr. Ralph, which caused a grim smile to light +upon Mr. Rushton's face, for an instant, so to speak. + +The carriage then drove up with its old greys, and Miss Lavinia and +Redbud entered. Before rode the Squire and Mr. Rushton; behind, Ralph +and Fanny. + +As for Verty, he kept by the carriage, and talked with Redbud and Miss +Lavinia, who seemed to have grown very good-humored and friendly. + +Redbud had not ridden out since her return to Apple Orchard, and the +fresh, beautiful day made her cheeks bright and her eyes brilliant. +The grass, the trees, the singing birds, and merry breezes, spoke to +her in their clear, happy voices, and her eye dwelt fondly on every +object, so old, and familiar, and dear. + +Is it wonderful that not seldom her glance encountered Verty's, and +they exchanged smiles? His face was the face of her boy playmate--it +was very old and familiar; who can say that it was not more--that it +was not dear? + +And so they passed the old gate, with all its apple trees, and the +spot where the great tree stood, through whose heart was bored the +aperture for the cider press beam--and through the slope beyond, +leaving the overseer's house, babies and all, behind, and issued forth +into the highway leading to the ancient borough of Winchester. + +And gazing on the happy autumn fields, our little heroine smiled +brightly, and felt very thankful in her heart to Him who dowered her +life with all that beauty, and joy, and happiness; and ever and anon +her hand would be raised absently toward her neck, where it played +with the old coral necklace taken from the drawer in which it had been +laid--by accident, we should say, if there were any accident. And so +they approached the town. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVI. + +THE HOUR AND THE NECKLACE. + + +As they entered the town, something strange seemed to be going on; the +place was evidently in commotion. A great thrill seemed to run through +the population, who were gathered at the doors and windows--such of +them as did not throng the streets; and as the hoofs of the horses +struck upon the beaten way, a drum suddenly was heard thundering +indignantly through the narrow streets. + +The crowd rushed toward it--hurried, muttering, armed with nondescript +weapons, as though the Indians were come down from the mountain +fastnesses once more; and then, as the cortege from Apple Orchard +passed beyond the old fort, the meaning of all the commotion was +visible. + +Marching slowly along in confused masses, a large portion of the Irish +population came toward the fort, and from their appearance, these men +seemed ripe for commotion. + +They were armed with clubs, heavy canes, bludgeons, and old rusty +swords; and these weapons were flourished in the air in a way which +seemed to indicate the desire to inflict death and destruction on some +hostile party which did not appear. + +But the most singular portion of the pageant was undoubtedly the +personage borne aloft by the shouting crowd. This was the Dutch St. +Michael himself--portly, redfaced, with a necklace of sour krout, +clad, as had been said by Mr. Jinks, in six pairs of pantaloons, and +resembling a hogshead. + +St. Michael was borne aloft on a species of platform, supported on +the shoulders of a dozen men; and when the saint raised the huge beer +glass from his knee, and buried his white beard in it, the swaying +crowd set up a shout which shook the houses. + +This was the Irish defiance of the Dutch: the Emerald Isle against +the Low Countries--St. Patrick against St. Michael. The figure of St. +Michael was paraded in defiance of the Dutch--the thundering drum and +echoing shouts were all so many ironical and triumphant defiances. + +The shouting crowd came on, tramping heavily, brandishing their clubs, +and eager for the fray. + +Miss Lavinia becomes terrified; the ladies of the party, by an +unanimous vote, decide that they will draw up to one side by Mr. +Rushton's office, and permit the crowd to pass. Mr. Rushton desires to +advance upon the peacebreakers, and engage in single combat with St. +Michael and all his supporters. + +The Squire dissuades him--and growling contemptuously, the lawyer does +not further oppose the desire of the ladies. + +Then from Mr. Rushton's office comes hastily our friend Mr. +Roundjacket--smiling, flourishing his ruler, and pointing, with +well-bred amusement, to the crowd. The crowd look sidewise at Mr. +Roundjacket, who returns them amiable smiles, and brandishes his +ruler in pleasant recognition of Hibernian friends and clients in the +assemblage. + +Roundjacket thinks the ladies need not be alarmed. Still, as there +will probably be a fight soon, they had better get out and come in. + +Roundjacket is the public character when he speaks thus--he is +flourishing his ruler. It is only when Miss Lavinia has descended that +he ogles that lady. Suddenly, however, he resumes his noble and lofty +carriage, and waves the ruler at his friend, St. Michael--tailor and +client--by name, O'Brallaghan. + +The crowd passes on, with thundering drums and defiant shouts; and our +party, from Apple Orchard, having affixed their horses to the wall, +near at hand, gaze on the masquerade from Mr. Rushton's office. + +We have given but a few words to the strange pageant which swept on +through the main street of the old border town; and this because any +accurate description is almost wholly impossible. Let the reader +endeavor to imagine Pandemonium broke loose, with all its burly +inmates, and thundering voices, and _outre_ forms, and, perhaps, the +general idea in his mind may convey to him some impression of the rout +which swept by with its shouts and mad defiances. + +Some were clad in coat and pantaloons only; others had forgotten the +coat, and exposed brawny and hirsute torsos to the October sun, and +swelling muscles worthy of Athletes. + +Others, again, were almost _sans-culottes_, only a remnant being left, +which made the deficiency more tantalizingly painful to the eye. + +Let the reader, then, imagine this spectacle of torn garments, +tattered hats, and brandished clubs--not forgetting the tatterdemalion +negro children, who ran after the crowd in the last state of +dilapidation, and he will have some slight idea of the masquerade, +over which rode, in supreme majesty, the trunk-nosed Mr. O'Brallaghan. + +We need not repeat the observations of the ladies; or detail their +exclamations, fears, and general behavior. Like all members of the +fair sex, they made a virtue of necessity, and assumed the most +winning expressions of timidity and reliance on their cavaliers; and +even Miss Lavinia reposed upon a settee, and exclaimed that it was +dreadful--very dreadful and terrifying. + +Thereat, Mr. Roundjacket rose into the hero, and alluded to the crowd +with dignified amusement; and when Miss Lavinia said, in a low voice, +that other lives were precious to her besides her own--evidently +referring to Mr. Roundjacket--that gentleman brandished his ruler, and +declared that life was far less valuable than her smiles. + +In another part of the room Ralph and Fanny laughed and +jested--opposite them. Mr. Rushton indignantly shook his fist in the +direction of the crowd, and vituperated the Hibernian nation, in a +manner shocking to hear. + +Verty was leaning on the mantel-piece, as quietly as if there was +nothing to attract his attention. He had pushed Cloud through the mass +with the unimpressed carriage of the Indian hunter; and his dreamy +eyes were far away--he listened to other sounds than shouts, perhaps +to a maiden singing. + +The little singer--we refer to Miss Redbud--had been much terrified +by the crowd, and felt weak, owing to the recent sickness. She looked +round for a seat, and saw none. + +The door leading into the inner sanctum of Mr. Rushton then attracted +her attention, and seeing a comfortable chair within, she entered, and +sat down. + +Redbud uttered a sigh of weariness and relief, and then gazed around +her. + +The curtain was drawn back from the picture--the child's face was +visible. + +She went to it, and was lost in contemplation of the bright, pretty +face; when, as had happened with Verty, she felt a hand upon her +shoulder, and started. + +Mr. Rushton stood beside her. + +"Well, Miss!" he said, roughly, "what are you doing?" + +"Oh, sir!" Redbud replied, "I am sorry I offended you--but I saw this +pretty picture, and just come to look at it." + +"Humph!" growled the lawyer, "nothing can be kept private here." + +And, with a softened expression, he gazed at the picture. + +"It is very pretty," said Redbud, gently; "who was she, sir?" + +The lawyer was silent; he seemed afraid to trust his voice. At last he +said: + +"My child." + +And his voice was so pathetic, that Redbud felt the tears come to her +eyes. + +"Pardon me for making you grieve, Mr. Rushton," she said, softly, +"it was very thoughtless in me. But will you let me speak? She is in +heaven, you know; the dear Savior said himself, that the kingdom of +heaven was full of such." + +The lawyer's head bent down, and a hoarse sigh, which resembled the +growl of a lion, shook his bosom. + +Redbud's eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh, do not grieve, sir," she said, in a tremulous voice, "trust in +God, and believe that He is merciful and good." + +The poor stricken heart brimmed with its bitter and corroding agony; +and, raising his head, the lawyer said, coldly: + +"Enough? this may be very well for you, who have never suffered--it +is the idle wind to me! Trust in God? Away! the words are +fatuitous!--ough!" and wiping his moist brow, he added, coldly, "What +a fool I am, to be listening to a child!" + +Redbud, with her head bent down, made no reply. + +Her hand played, absently, with the coral necklace; without thinking, +she drew it with her hand. + +The time had come. + +The old necklace, worn by use, parted asunder, and fell upon the +floor. The lawyer, with his cold courtesy, picked it up. + +As he did so,--as his eye dwelt upon it, a strange expression flitted +across his rugged features. + +With a movement, as rapid as thought, he seized the gold clasp with +his left hand, and turned the inner side up. + +His eye was glued to it for a moment, his brow grew as pale as death, +and sinking into the old chair, he murmured hoarsely: + +"Where did you get this?" + +Redbud started, and almost sobbing, could not reply. + +He caught her by the wrist, with sudden vehemence, and holding the +necklace before her, said: + +"Look!" + +Upon the inside of the gold plate were traced, in almost illegible +lines, the letters, "A.R." + +"It was my child's!" he said, hoarsely; "where did you get it?" + +Redbud, with a tremor which she could not restrain, told how she had +purchased the necklace from a pedlar; she knew no more; did not know +his name--but recollected that he was a German, from his accent. + +The lawyer fell into his chair, and was silent: his strong frame from +time to time trembled--his bosom heaved. + +At last he raised his face, which seemed to have sunken away in the +last few moments, and still holding the necklace tightly, motioned +Redbud toward the door. + +"We--will--speak further of this," he said, his voice charged with +tears; and with a slow movement of his head up and down, he again +desired Redbud to leave him. + +She went out:--the last she saw was Mr. Rushton clasping the necklace +to his lips, and sobbing bitterly, + +In the outer room they laughed and jested gaily. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVII. + +HOW ST. PATRICK ENCOUNTERED ST. MICHAEL, AND WHAT ENSUED. + + +As Redbud entered the outer room, the talkers suddenly became silent, +and ran to the windows. + +The procession has returned:--the pageant has retraced its steps:--the +swaying, shouting, battle-breathing rout has made the northern end of +the town hideous, and comes back to make the portion already passed +over still more hideous. + +Hitherto the revellers have had a clear sweep--an unobstructed +highway. They have gone on in power and glory, conquering where there +was no enemy, defying where there was no adversary. + +But this all changes suddenly, and a great shout roars up from a +hundred mouths. + +Another drum is heard; mutterings from the southern end of the town +respond. + +The followers of the maligned and desecrated Michael are in battle +array--the Dutch are out to protect their saint, and meet the Irish +world in arms. + +They come on in a tumultuous mass: they sway, they bend, they leap, +they shout. The other half of Pandemonium has turned out, and +surrounding ears are deafened by the demoniac chorus. + +In costume they are not dissimilar to their enemies--in rotundity they +are superior, however, if not in brawn. Every other warrior holds his +pipe between his teeth, and all brandish nondescript weapons, like +their enemies, the Irish. + +And as the great crowd draws near, the crowning peculiarity of the +pageant is revealed to wondering eyes. + +The Dutch will have their defiant masquerade no less than their +enemies: the Irish parade St. Michael in derision: their's be it to +show the world an effigy of St. Patrick. + +Borne, like St. Michael, on a platform raised above the universal +head, in proud pre-eminence behold the great St. Patrick, and his wife +Sheeley! + +St. Patrick is tall and gaunt, from his contest with the serpents of +the emerald isle. He wears a flowing robe, which nevertheless permits +his slender, manly legs to come out and be visible. He boasts a shovel +hat, adorned with a gigantic sprig of shamrock: he sits upon the +chest in which, if historical tradition truly speaks, the great boa +constrictor of Killarney was shut up and sunk into the waters of the +lake. Around his neck is a string of Irish potatoes--in his hand a +shillelah. + +Beside him sits his wife Sheeley, rotund and ruddy, with a coronet of +potatoes, a necklace of potatoes, a breastpin of potatoes--and lastly, +an apron full of potatoes. She herself resembled indeed a gigantic +potatoe, and philologians might have conjectured that her very name +was no more than a corruption of the adjective mealy. + +The noble saint and his wife came on thus far above the roaring crowd, +and as they draw nearer, lo! the saint and Sheeley are revealed. + +The saint is personated by the heroic Mr. Jinks--his wife is +represented by Mistress O'Calligan! + +This is the grand revenge of Mr. Jinks--this is the sweet morsel which +he has rolled beneath his tongue for days--this is the refinement of +torture he has mixed for the love-sick O'Brallaghan, who personates +the opposing Michael. + +As the adversaries see their opponents, they roar--as they catch sight +of their patron saints thus raised aloft derisively, they thunder. The +glove is thrown, the die is cast--in an instant they are met in deadly +battle. + +Would that our acquaintance with the historic muse were sufficiently +intimate to enable us to invoke her aid on this occasion. But she is +far away, thinking of treaties and protocols, and "eventualities" far +in the orient, brooding o'er lost Sebastopol. + +The reader therefore must be content with hasty words. + +The first item of the battle worthy to be described, is the downward +movement of the noble saints from their high position. + +Once in the melee, clutching at their enemies, the combatants become +oblivious of saintly affairs. The shoulders of the platform bearers +bend--the platforms tumble--St. Patrick grapples with St. Michael, who +smashes his pewter beer-pot down upon the shamrock. + +The shamrock rises--wild and overwhelmed with terror, recreant to +Ireland, and quailing before Michael, who has stumbled over Sheeley. + +Mr. Jinks retreats through the press before O'Brallaghan, who pursues +him with horrible ferocity, breathing vengeance, and on fire with +rage. + +O'Brallaghan grasps Jinks' robe--the robe is torn from his back, and +O'Brallaghan falls backwards: then rises, still overwhelmed with rage. + +Jinks suddenly sees a chance of escape--he has intrusted Fodder to a +boy, who rides now in the middle of the press. + +He tears the urchin from the saddle, seizes a club, and leaping +upon Fodder's back, brandishes his weapon, and cheers on his men to +victory. + +But accidents will happen even to heroes. Mr. Jinks is not a great +rider--it is his sole weak point. Fodder receiving a blow behind, +starts forward--then stops, kicking up violently. + +The forward movement causes the shoulders of Mr. Jinks to fly down on +the animal's back, the legs of Mr. Jinks to rise into the air. The +backward movement of the donkey's heels interposes at this moment to +knock Mr. Jinks back to his former position. + +But his feet are out of the stirrups, he cannot keep his seat; and +suddenly he feels a hand upon his leg--his enemy glares on him; he is +whirled down to the earth, and O'Brallaghan has caught his prey. + +The stormy combat, with its cries, and shouts, and blows, and +imprecations, closes over them, and all seems lost for Jinks. + +Not so. When fate seems to lower darkest, sunlight comes. O'Brallaghan +has brought his stalwart fist down on Mr. Jinks' nose but once, has +scarcely caused the "gory blood" of that gentleman to spout forth from +the natural orifices, when a vigorous female hand is laid upon his +collar, and he turns. + +It is Mistress O'Calligan Sheeley come to the rescue of her husband. + +O'Brallaghan is pulled from Jinks--that hero rises, and attempts to +flee. + +He rushes into the arms of another lady, who, in passing near the +crowd, has been caught up like a leaf and buried in the combat--Miss +Sallianna. + +But fate is again adverse, though impartial. Mr. Jinks and +O'Brallaghan are felled simultaneously by mighty blows, and the rout +closes over them. + +As they fall, a swaying motion in the crowd is felt--the authorities +have arrived--the worn-out combatants draw off, sullenly, and the dead +and wounded only are left upon the field. + +The crowd retires--they have had their fight, and broken numerous +heads. They have vindicated the honor of their Saints--to-morrow they +are friends and neighbors again. + +One beautiful and touching scene is left for aftertimes--one picture +which even the historic muse might have paused near, and admired. + +Two lovely dames contend for the privilege of holding a bloody +warrior's head, whose nose is injured. + +It is Mr. Jinks, Miss Judith, and Miss Sallianna. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVIII. + +THE END OF THE CHAIN. + + +We are conscious that the description of the great battle just given +is but a poor and lame delineation, and we can only plead defective +powers in that department of art--the treatment of battle-pieces. + +We cannot describe the appearance of the battle-field after the +combat, any more than the contest. + +Wounded and crack-crowned, groaning and muttering heroes dragging +themselves away--this is the resume which we find it in our power +alone to give. + +One hero only seems to be seriously injured. + +He is a man of forty-five or fifty, with a heavy black beard, thick +sensual lips, and dog-like face. He is clad roughly; and the few words +which he utters prove that he is a German. + +The fight has taken place opposite Mr. Rushton's office, and thither +this man is borne. + +Mr. Rushton growls, and demands how he had the audacity to break the +peace. The man mutters. Mr. Rushton observes that he will have him +placed in the stocks, and then sent to jail. The German groans. + +Suddenly Mr. Rushton feels a hand upon his arm. He turns round: it is +Redbud. + +"That is the man who sold me the necklace, sir!" she says, in a +hesitating voice. "I recognize him--it is the pedlar." + +Mr. Rushton starts, and catches the pedlar by the arm. + +"Come!" he commences. + +The pedlar rises without assistance, sullenly, prepared for the +stocks. + +"Where did you get this necklace? Speak!" + +The lawyer's eyes awe the man, and he stammers. Mr. Rushton grasps him +by the collar, and glares at him ferociously. + +"Where?" + +In five minutes he has made the pedlar speak--he bought the necklace +from the mother of the young man standing at the door. + +"From the Indian woman?" + +"Yes, from her." + +Mr. Rushton turns pale, and falls into a chair. + +Verty hastens to him. + +The lawyer rises, and gazes at him with pale lips, passes his hand +over his brow with nervous, trembling haste. He holds the necklace up +before Verty there, and says, in a husky voice-- + +"Where did your mother get this?" + +Verty gazes at the necklace, and shakes his head. + +"I don't know, sir--I don't know that it is her's--I think I have seen +it though--yes, yes, long, long ago--somewhere!" + +And the young hunter's head droops, thoughtfully--his dreamy eyes seem +to wander over other years. + +Then he raises his head and says, abruptly: + +"I had a strange thought, sir! I thought I saw myself--only I was a +little child--playing with that necklace somewhere in a garden--oh, +how strange! There were walks with box, and tulip beds, and in the +middle, a fountain--strange! I thought I saw Indians, too--and heard a +noise--why, I am dreaming!" + +The lawyer looks at Verty with wild eyes, which, slowly, very slowly, +fill with a strange light, which makes the surrounding personages keep +silent--so singular is this rapt expression. + +A thought is rising on the troubled and agitated mind of the lawyer, +like a moon soaring above the horizon. He trembles, and does not take +his eyes for a moment from the young man's face. + +"A fountain--Indians?" he mutters, almost inarticulately. + +"Yes, yes!" says Verty, with dreamy eyes, and crouching, so to speak, +Indian fashion, until his tangled chestnut curls half cover his +cheeks--"yes, yes!--there again!--why it is magic--there! I see it +all--I remember it! I must have seen it! Redbud!" he said, turning to +the young girl with a frightened air, "am I dreaming?" + +Redbud would have spoken. Mr. Rushton, with a sign, bade her be +silent. He looked at the young man with the same strange look, and +said in a low tone: + +"Must have seen what?" + +"Why, this!" said Verty, half extending his arm, and pointing toward +a far imaginary horizon, on which his dreamy eyes were fixed--"this! +don't you see it? My tribe! my Delawares--there in the woods! They +attack the house, and carry off the child in the garden playing with +the necklace. His nurse is killed--poor thing! her blood is on the +fountain! Now they go into the great woods with the child, and an +Indian woman takes him and will not let them kill him--he is so pretty +with his long curls like the sunshine: you might take him for a girl! +The Indian woman holds before him a bit of looking-glass, stolen from +the house! Look! they will have his life--oh!" + +And crouching, with an exclamation of terror, Verty shuddered. + +"Give me my rifle!" he cried; "they are coming there! Back!" + +And the young man rose erect, with flashing eyes. + +"The woman flies in the night," he continues, becoming calm again; +"they pursue her--she escapes with the boy--they come to a deserted +lodge--a lodge! a lodge! Why, it is our lodge in the hills! It's _ma +mere_! and I was that child! Am I mad?" + +And Verty raised his head, and looked round him with terror. + +His eye fell upon Mr. Rushton, who, breathing heavily, his looks +riveted to his face, his lips trembling, seemed to control some +overwhelming emotion by a powerful effort. + +The lawyer rose, and laid his hand upon Verty's shoulder--it trembled. + +"You are--dreaming--," he gasped. Suddenly, a brilliant flash darted +from his eye. With a movement, as rapid as thought, he tore the +clothes from the young man's left shoulder, so as to leave it bare to +the armpit. + +Exactly on the rounding of the shoulder, which was white, and wholly +free from the copper-tinge of the Indian blood, the company descried a +burn, apparently inflicted in infancy. + +The dazzled eyes of the lawyer almost closed--he fell into the old +leather chair, and sobbing, "my son! my son Arthur!" would have +fainted. + +He was revived promptly, and the wondering auditors gathered around +him, listening, while he spoke--the shaggy head, leaning on the +shoulder of Verty, who knelt at his feet, and looked up in his eyes +with joy and wonder. + +Yes! there could be no earthly doubt that the strange words uttered by +the boy, were so many broken and yet brilliant memories shining from +the dim past: that this was his son--the original of the portrait. The +now harsh and sombre lawyer, when a young and happy man, had married +a French lady, and lived on the border; and his little son had, after +the French fashion, received, for middle name, his mother's name, +Anne--and this had become his pet designation. His likeness had been +painted by a wandering artist, and soon after, a band of Delawares had +attacked the homestead and carried him away to the wilderness, and +there had remained little doubt, in his father's mind, that the +child had been treated as the Indians were accustomed to treat such +captives--mercilessly slain. The picture of him was the only treasure +left to the poor broken heart, when heaven had taken his wife from +him, soon afterwards--and in the gloom and misanthropy these tortures +inflicted upon him, this alone had been his light and solace. +Retaining for the boy his old pet name of Anne, he had cried in +presence of the picture, and been hardened in spite of all, against +Providence. In the blind convulsions of his passionate regret, he had +even uttered blasphemy, and scouted anything like trust in God; and +here now was that merciful God leading his child back to him, and +pardoning all his sin of unbelief, and enmity, and hatred; and saying +to him, in words of marvellous sweetness and goodness, "Poor soured +spirit, henceforth worship and trust in me!" + +Yes! his son Arthur, so long wept and mourned, had come to him +again--was there before him, kneeling at his feet! + +And with his arms around the boy, the rugged man bent down and wept, +and uttered in his heart a prayer for pardon. + +And we may be sure that the man's joy was not unshared by those +around--those kind, friendly eyes, which looked upon the father and +son, and rejoiced in their happiness. The very sunshine grew more +bright, it seemed; and when the picture was brought forth, and set +in his light, he shone full on it, and seemed to laugh and bless the +group with his kind light--even the little laughing child. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIX. + +CONCLUSION. + + +Our chronicle is ended, and we cannot detain the reader longer, +listening to those honest kindly voices, which have, perhaps, spoken +quite as much as he is willing to give ear to. Let us hope, that in +consideration of their kindness and simplicity, he may pardon +what appeared frivolous--seeing that humanity beat under all, and +kindness--like the gentle word of the poet--is always gain. + +The history is therefore done, and all ends here upon the bourne of +comedy. Redbud, with all her purity and tenderness--Verty, with his +forest instincts and simplicity--the lawyer, and poet, and the rest, +must go again into silence, from which they came. They are gone away +now, and their voices sound no more; their eyes beam no longer; all +their merry quips and sighs, their griefs and laughter, die away--the +comedy is ended. Do not think harshly of the poor writer, who regrets +to part with them--who feels that he must miss their silent company +in the long hours of the coming autumn nights. Poor puppets of the +imagination! some may say, what's all this mock regret? No, no! not +only of the imagination: of the heart as well! + +This said, all is said; but, perhaps, a few words of the after fate of +Verty, and the rest, may not be inappropriate. + +The two kind hearts which loved each other so--Verty and Redbud--were +married in due course of time: and Ralph and Fanny too. Miss Lavinia +and the poet of chancery--Mistress O'Calligan and the knight of the +shears--Miss Sallianna and the unfortunate Jinks--all these pairs, +ere long, were united. Mr. Jinks perfected his revenge upon Miss +Sallianna, as he thought, by marrying her--but, we believe, the result +of his revenge was misery. Mistress O'Calligan accepted the hand of +Mr. O'Brallaghan, upon hearing of this base desertion; and so, the +desires of all were accomplished--for weal or woe. + +Be sure, _ma mere_ lived, with Verty and Redbud all her days +thereafter; and our honest Verty often mounted Cloud, and went away, +on bright October mornings, to the hills, and visited the old hunting +lodge: and smoothing, thoughtfully, the ancient head of Longears, +pondered on that strange, wild dream of the far past, which slowly +developed itself under the hand of Him, the Author and Life, indeed, +who brought the light! + +And one day, standing there beside the old hunting lodge, with Redbud, +Verty, as we still would call him, pointed to the skies, and pressing, +with his encircling arm, the young form, said, simply: + +"How good and merciful He was--to give me all this happiness--and +you!" + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Last of the Foresters, by John Esten Cooke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE FORESTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 10560.txt or 10560.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/5/6/10560/ + +Produced by Dave Maddock, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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